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The Tojo Clan and Omi Alliance were dead. And with them, the last remnants of Kiryu's past.
Now the dissolution was official, there was no more reason for him to stay. The Tojo Clan wasn't lingering in his peripheral vision anymore- this time, when he turned his back, it would be gone for good.
And that meant the same for Daigo, Majima and Saejima. Kiryu had earned something that no dead man ever got to have: one last dance with the people he cared about. Now that was over.
(He would have preferred to be dead for real. That would have been easier than saying goodbye again.)
"It's time for Joryu to take his leave," Hanawa said. He spoke so calmly, as if he wasn't killing a man all over again. Locking him in a coffin and burying him in front of the people he loved. "The Daidoji's role in this business is over."
"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me. His big secret codename is Joryu?" Majima giggled, and Saejima gave a quiet snort. "It's like you want him to be discovered."
Hanawa sniffed, but didn't respond. He glanced at Kiryu, who was standing in front of the limo, his back turned to the three of them. There was no need to tell him what to do.
He took a step forward, ready for his second death.
"Don't go."
Kiryu's heart stopped.
No. Don't do this.
"Kiryu-san."
Daigo's voice was strained. Quiet. Kiryu could have pretended not to hear it. He could have opened the door to the limo, stepped inside, and been done with it all.
"Kiryu-san, please."
He stayed where he was.
Don't do this, Daigo, he thought. Please.
"Don't go," Daigo said. "Not again."
Watase didn't step in this time. Both Majima and Saejima turned their gazes towards the ground.
Hanawa cleared his throat. A not-so-tacit reminder: you don't know this man anymore, Joryu.
"I have to," Kiryu said.
"No, you don't. You're here right now. You can stay."
Daigo had gone back to the beginning, starting the cycle of grief all over again. The first stage is denial.
"Why would I stay? I don't know who any of you are, and you don't know me." Kiryu felt numb as he said it, feeling the Daidoji yanking the strings of his limp puppet. "This is the first and last time we'll meet. Goodbye."
He stepped forward again, but someone seized his wrist. For a moment Kiryu thought it was Majima- who else was that wild with their strength? But he was dragged back and forced to look Daigo in the eyes.
The second stage is anger.
"Dojima-san!" Hanawa and Watase warned in unison. Saejima took half a step forward, but Majima stopped him.
"Don't," Daigo breathed.
"Let me go," Kiryu said, his voice stretched so thin it was barely audible. "I don't know who you are."
"Yes you do," Daigo said. "You've known me longer than anyone here."
Suddenly Daigo was eight years old, half Kiryu's size, playing catch with him and Nishiki. He was tugging at Kiryu's hand, dragging him across town to play at the batting centre. He was sixteen years old, doing schoolwork in Kiryu's kitchen instead of home, because that was where he felt safest.
Kiryu thought about hitting him. Maybe it would make things easier. But something about the desperation in Daigo's eyes told him it wouldn't work. Kiryu knew more than anybody about grief. If Nishiki was here right now, drenched in blood and holding a gun to his head, Kiryu would still reach out to him. Kiryu could hit Daigo a thousand times, and Daigo wouldn't let him go.
"You've known me longer than anyone here," Daigo repeated. "Otou-san."
This time, Kiryu did punch him.
Daigo hit the ground, his lip breaking. Hanawa flinched, Watase shook his head, Majima gave a low whistle and Saejima closed his eyes.
Chest heaving, Kiryu stared down at his closed fist. The blow wasn't for Daigo's sake- it was for his own. The guilt and stinging of his knuckles felt better than hearing those three syllables.
Without another word, Kiryu made his escape, striding towards the limo. His eyes blurred over. Don't look back. There's no point in it. Just let him- all of them- go.
"Is that it, Kiryu-chan?" Majima called. "Is this really how you're gonna leave things?"
Don't answer. You're dead and buried. You had that last fight with them, now let them go. "Hanawa! Let's go."
"We have to ensure they're going to stay silent," Hanawa said, eyeing Daigo intently.
"Watase can do it," Kiryu said. For a fraction of a second, he let himself look over his shoulder. Not at Daigo, who was picking himself up off of the ground, but at the former captain of the Omi Alliance. "Make him see reason. He won't listen to me."
Watase huffed. "Helluva job yer givin' me."
"Hanawa, let's go," Kiryu said. He turned away from them again, and swore it would be for the last time. "Hurry up!"
"Otou-san!" Daigo shouted, through a mouthful of blood. It took the combined effort of both Watase and Saejima to restrain him. "Don't go! We can help you! We can save you!"
"Let it go, Dojima-san!" Watase grunted, trying to hold him back- but it was like trying to hold back the tide. "There's nothin' you can do!"
"Otou-san!"
"Cool it, Daigo!" Saejima said. "I get it! I get it, okay? But it's over. It's been over. There must be a good reason that he's leavin'! They might hurt him if ya don't stop!"
"So why aren't we helping him?" All semblance of Daigo's restraint had vanished. He was weeping. "Fuck you! Let me go!"
Kiryu swung open the door of the limo.
"Otou-san, it doesn't have to be like this! Come back! Otou-san!"
"Kiryu-chan, he's right, don't go-" Majima started.
Kiryu slammed the door, cutting off Daigo's shouting and Majima's last words.
Akame was leaning back in the passenger seat, glancing out of the window. Breezily, she said, "That guy's a little old to be yer son, no?"
Kiryu focused on the floor beneath his feet, taking quick, ragged breaths. He was paralysed. A moment later, Hanawa entered the car.
"Drive," Kiryu said.
"Joryu, can we be sure he won't say anythi-"
"Drive!" Kiryu roared.
For once in his life, Hanawa listened without arguing.
The second the car engine started, Kiryu fell back against his seat, one hand over his mouth. His knuckles were already raw and bloody from fighting Shishido, but punching Daigo had made them hurt a hundred times more.
Don't look out of the window. Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.
Soon Daigo and the others were well out of sight, and the limo was on the road again. Kiryu dropped his head against the seat in front of him, tears shuddering down his face. That was it. It was over.
"Joryu," Akame said. Her usual pep was gone from her voice. "You're bleedin'. Need me to fix you up?"
"No."
She didn't push it.
"Will Dojima be able to keep this a secret, Joryu?" Hanawa asked. "I need to make sure of it."
Kiryu's throat was sore and thick. "Yes. If Watase and Tsuruno explain the risk to Morning Glory, then he'll listen."
If Akame had any questions, she didn't ask them. Dead silence fell over the limo.
Daigo would listen, eventually. And he would move on. He would cycle through the rest of the stages of grief again, and return to acceptance. That was how it had to go.
One day, maybe Kiryu would do the same.
Majima. Saejima. Son... goodbye, he told the rolling streets of Sotenbori, because he couldn't tell them. For the last time.
***
("Ouch!"
"Stay still." Kiryu dabbed antiseptic onto the fresh cut on Daigo's cheek, and gave him a flick to the ear as he kept squirming. "Stop fidgeting."
"Sorry." Daigo winced as Kiryu doctored up his injuries. "Ow! Kiryu-san!"
"If you keep moving, it's going to hurt more."
"How can I not move when it hurts this much?" Daigo sulked.
Not without affection, Kiryu sighed. "Always so dramatic."
"I'm not being dramatic- ow, ow, ow! What was that for, Kiryu-san?"
Kiryu had tugged at his ear. "Shhh. Let your doctor finish his work in peace."
"Man..." Daigo continued to complain under his breath, but had the wisdom to stay still. "Is it done, yet?"
"Have a little patience, kid." Kiryu applied the final plaster to Daigo's cheek, and leaned back to examine his work. "There we go. Good as new."
With a very teenager-esque grumble, Daigo gingerly touched his face. He looked a lot better than he had done when he had first stumbled through Kiryu's door, bloody all over. "... thank you, Kiryu-san."
"Finally, some gratitude." Kiryu smiled at him. "You're welcome, Daigo. Now, what happened today?"
Daigo scowled. "Some guys in my class started shit with me. Jumped me after school."
"I see." Kiryu sighed. "Want me to do anything about it?"
"No way," Daigo said. "I can fight by myself. I kicked their asses."
"... I don't doubt that." Kiryu reached out to ruffle Daigo's hair, feeling guilty all the while.
The bravado seemed to drain out of Daigo. "Hey, Kiryu-san...?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm... really sorry," Daigo mumbled. He picked at one of the plasters on his hand. "For always bothering you. I know it must be a pain, babysitting your boss' brat like this. I'll... I'll stop buggin' you so much."
Kiryu's face softened. "You know I don't mind, Daigo. You can tell me anything."
"I don't wanna be annoying..."
"Daigo," Kiryu chided him. "You don't annoy me. I care about you, a lot."
Daigo fidgeted.
"Hey," Kiryu said, insistent. "Listen to me, Daigo. I'll always be there for you, and I'll never walk away from you if you need me. So come to me whenever, okay?"
"You really mean that?"
"Of course."
Daigo's bruised, surly face lit up in a smile. "Thank you, Kiryu-san. So much."
"Any time." Kiryu thought about hugging him, but settled for patting his shoulder. "Now, you hungry?"
Ever the ravenous teenage boy, Daigo nodded. "I'm fuckin' starving, man."
"Thought so," Kiryu chuckled. "I've got you, Daigo. I've got you.")