Work Text:
The first time Inui tries to smoke, Koko catches the cigar between his fingers and snatches it away without saying a word.
“Koko, what the hell?” He reaches out, but Koko extends his arm away, his expression not one Inui is quite familiar with. “Bastard, give that back.”
“Why the fuck are you smoking? You wanna burn yourself from inside out?”
Inupi was stunned into silence for not longer than three seconds. The word burn ringing in his ears, reviving images that lurked in the back of his mind. It was why he wanted to smoke in the first place. “None of your business.”
“This is pathetic of you, Inupi.”
He sees red, then within another moment, his fist lands on Koko’s face. Or so would have been, had not Koko caught his hand with his palm, not looking in the slightest bit surprised. Inui withdraws and tosses him a sharp glare. “Let go of my hand, Koko.”
Koko doesn’t waver. He smiles, all sharp teeth and obnoxious tongue sticking out. “Isn’t this the same hand you murdered someone with?”
Inupi’s eyes widened. His forefinger twitches. Suddenly, it evoked all unwanted sensations on his skin. He felt the recoil of the gun within his hand. The echo of the shot. The warm, thick liquid that splattered on his face.
Inui wanted to scream.
“Couldn’t stomach it right?” Koko almost laughed in his state of utter confusion, treading the line between madness and anger. “This was why I told you to let me handle it.”
When Inui retracts his hand, Koko doesn’t stop him. Inui rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Koko.” It's over now. The boy has been killed while Mikey watched unflinchingly. Hanagaki had just left Toman too and everything’s in a mess. He’s pretty sure Mikey’s last bit of sanity went along with him.
The blood had been everywhere. Messy, as Mikey called it. Shouldn’t have aimed for the head. The metallic tang twisted his expression and brought forth all the nasty emotions from his heart, even those he didn’t know he had. All he can smell right now though is Koko’s cologne as his body pressed itself closer to him.
“It’s alright, now. They’re not here.” His breath tickles on his ears. Inui squeezes his eyes shut and instinctively clings to his clothes. Mikey wanted him to drag Hanagaki back to Toman, by all means possible. It wasn’t an impossible feat, but Inupi wasn’t willing to. That much he can do for the guy that saved him. For the one that woke him up from his drugged obsession.
When Mikey found out, of course, he—
“You’re cold,” Koko notes, taking his hand. “I’ll keep you warm, yeah?”
He nods and lets Koko slowly unbuttons his shirt, like the way tides rise gently before a storm.
In a way, Inupi would always think he’s using him as a replacement for Akane, it’s a scar as permanent as the one in his forehead.
When in truth— one of the ones Koko would probably never admit — it’s all just a convenience excuse he can throw around anytime he likes. Koko liked Akane, but it was love turned obsession for the purpose of his being that her existence seemed to represent. Koko has worshipped the ground she walks on, built a cage around himself where there’s only Akane and Koko (because memories, unlike people, don’t change). It was all harmless love until Inupi dragged him out of his walls and showed him the wreckage he had blindly made out of it all.
Ever since then, he never stopped following Inupi.
Koko loves Inupi, romantically, sexually, or in all ways he couldn’t bother to name or know. Inupi doesn’t know that, he thinks this is all a game they’re playing, a test of endurance on who will give out first, who will break first. Like an endless tug of war, only if they hang on the rope long enough to realize it’s meant to tear them apart.
Koko sighs on his palm. Inupi slept soundlessly next to him like a comforting weight. He tangles his finger over the blond locks and eyes his scar, wondering when it started becoming a dearest thing to Koko. Inupi won’t let him kiss it —even in intimate, dazing moments where lust overtakes common sense, Inupi keeps the line— saying it still hurts, after all these years, even if Koko knew it should have completely healed. At this point, Koko can’t separate his lies from the truth anymore. It felt like he’s getting less and less to know Inupi the longer they stay together.
He leans in, brushes the bangs out of the way, and plants a soft kiss over his scar. He wouldn’t dare do something affectionate to Inupi when he’s awake, only because the latter wouldn’t react at all. Or maybe he would, but Koko would have looked away before he could catch the plain rejection that would fall on his expression.
He has been staring into the void for an hour before Inupi cracks his eyes open and mutters a soft good morning, looking not quite here yet. He sits up and stretches his limbs.
“What are you thinking about, Koko?”
You . He opts for the safest route. “Money.”
Inupi’s reply, as it did with any other times, was silence.
Koko flicks a hair strand away from his eyes. He considers cutting it a little, just above his chin. “I’m thinking about Sano and Kurokawa,” says Inupi. He shuffles closer, his gaze unreadable like it’s creating its own world.
Koko shrugs and grins without much of anything in it. His grins are becoming like a distinct defense mechanism of his. He doesn’t want to talk about them. He doesn’t want to think about them at all. “Heh, who cares about those deranged bloodthirsty fools.”
“You’re deranged too,” Inupi deadpans. “As am I.”
Koko hangs his head, his smile melting into a knowing smirk. “I’m deranged for money.”
“That doesn’t make a difference.”
Koko tucks a swift kiss near his temple. “Yes, it does, darling. ”
Inupi frowns. “Don’t call me that.”
“Well, no shit. What am I gonna call you?”
“I believe I have a name.”
“No, I mean, in bed .”
“You do call me Akane sometimes though.”
Ouch. He has a point. On purpose though, otherwise Inupi would have seen through his lies a long time ago. “I can call you Seishu.”
A pause. Koko pretends his heart doesn’t stop. Inupi laughs breathily. The first time in the week. “You wouldn’t,” he says like a matter of fact.
“Is that a challenge, Seishu ?”
When Inupi’s laugh stops and his eyes turn blank, Koko swears to himself never to call him that again.
( The first time they had sex, Inupi kept stirring and wriggling beneath him like a restless cat. Koko bumped their heads together with a scowl and restrained his wrists. “Stop moving around so much!”
“My leg,” Inupi breathed out. “I think it fell asleep.”
Koko glanced at it but didn’t remove his weight. “Shut up. I’ll make it feel something later.”
He kissed Inupi like there was no tomorrow. To people like them who work in the shadows, it always felt like it is.)
Kokonui hardly had anything he fears, all emotions other than amusement and longing are tossed under the sea, greed taking over everything else. In his head, cogs are always working to obtain the vault of riches. He knows his worth comes from his ideas to procure funds, and he knows Inupi’s worth comes from his unyielding loyalty and the condition Koko would only listen to him.
That is what makes them special to a certain extent. That’s what makes them worth letting alive.
But one day, when Koko walks into their living room, sees Inupi about to plant a bullet in his head, Koko almost dies from terror alone.
Even when Inupi holds his hand and buries Koko’s face to his chest, Koko couldn’t stop shaking. He listens to Inupi’s heart beating, knowing he’s alive, he’s here, still here .
Night comes and Koko realizes late that his grip on Inupi’s wrist has turned to a bruise from the lack of air. He promptly lets go and doesn’t apologize.
But Inupi does. “I was not going to do it. Sorry if I made you worried.”
Koko refuses to be afraid again, so he grabs Inupi’s shoulder and smacks him hard across the face. The blow echoes across the room, transforming his feelings into a wild, painful sound. Inupi doesn’t react at all but his eyes shift and fix on his.
“You’re not allowed to leave me,” Koko hissed on his temple where the words would bleed and engrave on his skull. He lets anger flood him like an unsatiated beast out of control. “How can you not fucking understand that?”
“I won’t,” he promises. “Because I’d know you’d follow even there.”
Koko doesn’t even deny that. “I’ll grab you from hell if I have to.”
“Would you? Or won’t you stay in hell with me?”
Inupi should already know the answer to that. He doesn’t even need to turn around, Koko will always be next to him.
“I’m shaving my hair,” Inupi declares with bold conviction but it is the indecipherable look in his eyes that makes Koko stiffens and tenses up. Inupi stares at him as if daring him to argue.
“Fine, you want some help?” Koko offers, shutting his book with a light slam.
Inupi’s lips parted. He must have expected something else— like a no, like a you won’t look like Akane anymore . But when Koko doesn’t add anything, Inupi elaborates, “It got in my hair when Hayashida was murdered.”
“The blood?”
He looks away, but less than embarrassed, an emotion close to a precursor of anger is turbulent in his gaze. “Yeah.”
There are some stains that shampoos and soaps couldn’t ever wash off. Had he could, there’s no doubt Inupi would have peeled off his own skin. He’s always been all bark. He’ll only kill if he’s told to.
That undying loyalty is always the worst thing about Inupi. And what Koko hates most about himself is that he’d give up everything to chase him, even if it’s toward the edge of the world. That’s always been the kind of person he is . Inupi and Money. The only two words that people would vaguely whisper when his silhouette passes them. It’s in the stench of his own soul.
Inupi walks out of the room and by the time he comes back, it’s evening and he’s holding his lost hair. His expression hasn’t changed at all.
( The first time Koko did his kill, he was only fifteen. It wasn’t through a knife or bullet, but poison. Death cuisine served on a golden platter. The man had trusted him enough then, with all their secret deals and illegal trades that could cost Koko his entire business. The man didn’t know it had been his last bite.
Inupi didn’t know, still doesn’t, and it’s a secret Koko will take to his grave. Just like the man did with his.
The only giveaway had been the change of hairstyle. Inupi had raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Koko told him he’ll reveal it in exchange for 100,000 yen. Inupi knew better than to ask again.)
Inupi does not cry when Hanagaki Takemichi dies. Or at least, Koko doesn’t see. He feels bad somewhat because out of anyone else, Koko has always been aware of what payment means.
Inupi kneels down before his corpse, the puddle of blood reaching his boot. Tachibana Naoto lays lifeless next to Hanagaki, their hands linked together like how lovers would. Koko muses in the thought for a moment until he notices Inupi’s shoulders trembling.
He doesn’t hear any sobbing, the night was all noiseless and heavy, like the sky carries its own grief.
“We should bury them,” says Inupi, breaking the silence. His voice is hoarse that Koko decides to overlook.
“Hell no. We can’t touch the body. Fingerprints and shit.” His expression hardens. “Let’s go, Inupi. The cops will be here any second.” He’s tired, in body and mind. Fighting Taiju had taken a toll on him more than he thought it could. Age didn't dampen his strength at all.
Koko wonders, in the short-lived delay before Inupi gets up, when things started to go wrong. Is it after the fire? Or much much later when Shinichiro Sano dies? Koko would pay his entire treasure for an ounce of an answer. Nowadays, it felt like they had always been this way, reduced to puppets filled with ashes and dust.
They no longer contain sins as the sin itself contains them.
Inupi’s eyes came into view before him, a glisten in them that indicated the once presence of tears. Koko opens his arms and Inupi pauses.
Koko’s not grinning the way he used to— the lazy, disdainful grin that falls into place whenever he wants. Instead, it softens to a smile. “I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”
And just like that, Inupi fell into his arms.
Koko hopes that when they die —and he knows it’d be sooner than later —he’s holding Inupi like this. So his soul would always know where to go.