Every Rule Has Its Exception (Saga and Zombie_In_A_Box)

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

C1 is a trained bodyguard, while C2 is an unsuspecting passenger. The two are the only ones walking in an empty alley when C1 gets shot. C2 has the choice between helping C1 and running away.

 

Name: Ichirou Fukui

 

Age: 27

 

Appearance: Short, bleached hair with undercut. He's got the "punk" look to him - several piercings in his ears (three in the right, two in the left), a lip piercing (a ring), as well as a small yin-yang tattoo on the back of his neck. He's about 5'8, generally slim, but not muscular. His wardrobe consists of everything from black leather jackets to T-shirts with cartoon characters on them. He picks his style based on the mood of the day.

 

Personality: While he appears to be absolutely carefree and relaxed most of the time, Ichirou isn't all that good with managing stress. The main reason for that is his poor time control. He's always late - everywhere. Be it work or a date, he's late at least five minutes. Otherwise he's always glad to meet new people, but doesn't hesitate to distance himself from people he dislikes even one bit. When in public, since his appearance already attracts enough attention, he doesn't act in ways that could offend someone. He doesn't mind helping people out, though mostly it's when he gets something in return. Ichirou disliked letting someone in too easily. He may talk to someone as if they'd been friends for years, but until he actually feels he can trust them, he will fake most of his emotions.

 

Bio: Ichirou was born into a very average family. His mother was a waitress, his dad was a teacher at a local school. Life with them seemed extremely boring - which was when he started to experiment with his appearance. First with his clothes, then his hair. Once he got over these boundaries, Ichirou didn't hesitate to dig deeper into sexual orientations as well as gender identities. His father didn't approve of any of this, although his mother tried her best to be happy with him. Once he got into college of his first choice, he cut ties with his dad, but continued communicating with his mother. When a teen, he used to get into long fights with his father, but his mom was always there to bring him food into his room if he didn't feel like coming out of there. She supported him throughout his journey of self-discovery, she was there during his first break-up, which hit him a little bit too hard.

[Saga]

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Name:

[

Masato Gou

] 雅人豪

Nickname:

Masa

Age:

31

Occupation:

Naichou Ex-Agent.

 

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Personality:

Masato is a very sharp man, keen and one who catches very quick.

Alone his inborn intelligence worked on the pro side, letting him do his, whether previous

or current, job with ease. He is not good when it comes to relationships for his inner world is complicated enough to have even the exterior be such.

Background:

At the age of ten he lost his mother due to a car accident, which gave him a small scar across his left blade-shoulder. That said and more, as a child of a divorced family he had to move to Tokyo where his father lived. Masato never truly liked anything to do with justice, after all, the one who caused his mother's death was never caught. There was no justice, just an ideal of such. The young Masato from back then would never imagine he'd work for Japan most powerful intelligence organ - Naikaku Jouhou Chousashitsu, or known as Naichou.

 

After his teen years, a single accident brought him to the path of an agent under the wing of Naichou. Five years took him to build up his name from within. Of course he never changed his perspective of 'justice' even if he worked as one of them. But as soon as Masato hit his 30's, he lost his partner during a case known as 'The Hell Reaper'. As a man who couldn't protect his best friend, Gou resigned from his position in Naichou. It's been one year since he started working as a bodyguard - be it at casino halls, or well known company conferences.

 

Quote:

"Justice is an idealistic idea of the nation, and he who rules makes the nation die for his ideals. "

---

---

It was the late afternoon on his day off. Masato usually didn't spend his time on streets, in fact, he'd rarely go out. It's been a year since the man lost his best friend, somehow the usual routine from work back home was the only thing he could accept as 'functioning reality'.

 

The beginning of summer hit the evening air with a humid note to it. The male was dressed casually, a white U-blouse with long sleeves, which were rolled up to his forearms, and neat black pants. With a slight frown on brows, he made his way to the convenience store. If he had bought cigarettes the day before, he could spend his day off fully behind his computer. Of course his current job as a bodyguard required no IT skills, in fact, he just had to stand there like a fashion model, acting scary. Rarely would something happen in the places he worked at. So one year wasn't enough to shake off his usual habit to work until late behind the screen. In fact, right now like never before he felt the need to 'find' the so called justice. His friend died and no one moved a finger to find the murderer. All the blame fell onto the group Masato led during that operation.

 

A sigh escaped him as he took a turn into more quieter street. The male was taken off his deep thoughts as soon as something could his attention. There were no birds despite being such a deadly quiet street. Under normal circumstances, birds and cicadas would race for the best 'nature orchestra', yet no sound reached Masato's ears. Come to think of it, ever since he left his flat he felt that he was being watched. His pupils wandered from side to side, eying the tall peaks of the trees along the street. Gladly he took his gun with him, so he thought. The male moved one had off his pants pocket to abruptly turn around. It was a cracking sound of a branch he detected but the moment he pulled his gun out his back brim of the pants, he felt a tearing pain in his shoulder. And not whichever but his leading hand that held the gun. The male stumbled to side, changing his hands. His guts didn't lie to him - it was too quiet to be 'natural'.

 

With body glued to a wall he saw a dark figure jumped off the tree to make it for escape. Masato could shoot but it was a street with houses and not far from there, there was a located children playground. His gun wasn't safe gun which wouldn't even wake up a baby, unlike the one that shot him. Whoever wanted to get rid of him came prepared for it.

 

- Tsk... - Gou lowered his gun, giving up on the idea to shoot. The pain was getting intense by now, once his adrenaline faded the numbing disappeared. The male slid down against the wall, holding tight onto his arm.

 

Great. Of all days now, when he left his cell at home. When he wore a single layer of shirt which was way too bright for the blood to be seen. If he at least wore his suit, he could blend somehow in the crowd. Nothing to be done; he had to wait for the darkness to fall completely. Hopefully he would stay conscious until then.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Crap... Pale lips pursed into a tight frown, hands coming to a stop above a small table. He forgot to buy groceries, again! A defeated sigh parted his lips, icy blue orbs hiding behind his eyelids. He still had enough time to go and buy something he could make into a half-decent dinner, right?

 

As a freshly sharpened pencil was placed next to a half-finished drawing, Ichirou stood up and glanced at the clock. Five in the afternoon, he could easily make it to the shop and be back until six. He'd have something to eat by seven, then he could finish up the drawing. Perfect - there was his little plan.

 

The blond quickly changed into a simple T-shirt with a character from "Happy Tree Friends", along with ripped jeans. It looked like it was warm enough outside for him to walk like this, anyway. Wallet, keys, phone, seemed like he had everything. After one more glance at the mirror, fingers brushing through his hair, the man headed outside. Finding the earphones tangled up in his back pocket, Ichirou began untangling them while walking. He barely even needed to look where he was heading by now. He'd been living at the same place for over three years now. If someone blindfolded him, he would still easily find his way home from whichever spot in the town.

 

This habit of his, however, nearly caused him to miss something that was certainly out of the ordinary. As he turned into an emptier alley, Ichirou raised his eyes the slightest bit as a shiver ran down his spine. He never really liked this exact street, it felt like bad luck. As "Fairly Local" blasted into his ears, the blond finally noted someone down on the ground. Huh, was it another drunkard? Wasn't it a bit early to get that drunk?

 

As he got closer, the blond began wondering if maybe that wasn't the case - only when he got a tad closer did he actually see the blood spreading across the white fabric. His mouth dropped open as he tore the earphones out of his ears, running up to the man. "Hey- You're bleeding!" Ichirou crouched down, his heart beating fast enough to feel like jumping out of his chest any moment. "I, err... Should I call an ambulance?" He asked, moving his hand closer to apply pressure to the wound. He wasn't sure how well he'd be able to do that, though. His fingers were shaking... No, his whole body was. This guy was shot, wasn't he? What if he was a criminal? A murdered? What if he would end up helping someone who would be better off dead?

[Saga]

Stomping sound his way, he barely could feel the warmth of this early summer dusk. The male's vision was getting hazier, and that brought him back in time. Where Hayama, his best friend, ran to him for first time. It was actually the first time someone dared to help Masato; he wasn't exactly the friendly type, if anything he was born for the leading share of a plate, so people found it hard to approach him. What left to bother him with 'stupid things' like, 'Do you need help?' When in fact, he always thought it would be nice, now and then, to have someone 'bug' him, which wouldn't be because they were ordered to. Like the rest of his colleagues to go have beer after work, or to talk about future plans - the usual things.

 

The moment the hand pressed against his wound, he flinched. It was like a pull for the reality. The male glanced over, he was sure - it had to be Hayama, right? With the delusional state he was in, his dark gray eyes met the ocean colored gaze of another male.

 

"Ah...that's right..I was shot..", his thoughts quickly registered back the reality, which wasn't so hard when one takes in consideration all the bloody "waterfall" running down his arm.

 

The other seemed to never been in such a situation. His whole body was trembling, as for his lips they were a rather pale color. Masato glanced down to his wound, then to the gun in his other hand. Under 'normal circumstances' his persona would be seen as anything but 'reassuring'. On the other hand however, he wasn't quite sure if the one who shot him was somewhere nearby. If that was so, how he could stand behind his ex-position as a Naichou ex-agent who gave his pledge to protect the nation at the cost of his life even so?

 

For his luck though, the bullet wasn't inside. Although he couldn't exactly tell how bad his wound was but if he happened to lose conscious on the way for the hospital and whoever accompanied him who had no idea how to even hold a gun properly, they could end up in an ugly way in case that half-assed skilled assassin was to trail after. If so, he had to call her - Misako Saya, one of the few women who he could stand, a senior of his in criminal department in Naichou.

 

- ..Your..phone.. - his low and yet velvet voice finally formed a short 'request', - I need to use your-... - there was the sensation he feared it might occur, to lose consciousness. How 'great'. Now his life fully laid in the hands of some punk. He wouldn't be surprised if that scaredy cat dashed off. Masato was good at deducting, and deducting never failed him. The young male seemed enough of flashy to bother bring the other to a hospital. With that look of his, the most would happen would be to be accused of something. So ... what an unlucky night.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Ichirou gnawed at his lip, shuddering as he felt blood on his hand. Fuck, that felt so gross. He was a simple guy, he didn't want to find anyone shot in some forgotten alleyway! Who was this guy, anyway? He guessed it wasn't the best time to ask, but he had to know once this man was hospitalized... Which seemed to be what he was requesting anyway.

 

With a nod, the blond took out his phone, dialing the three numbers to call an ambulance. "Look, you, uh, you should probably try not to talk or something... I'm gonna call an ambulance, they should get here soon. Or, err, can you stand up?" Ichirou felt like a moron while asking all these questions. No, of course he had no fucking idea how to handle any of this. Absolutely none. How could he, though? The best he could offer was stuff he'd learned through movies, and that was bound to be useless.

 

After all, in movies everything was a lot simpler and predictable. In movies you knew it would end well no matter what! But this wasn't a movie. This guy could bleed out, he could get some infection and die! As his hands shook, Ichirou put the phone to his ear, holding his other hand pressed tightly to the wound. He wasn't going to run away, at least.

 

"What the- H-hey! Stay awake!" Ichirou spoke, clearly worried. He wouldn't know how to handle an unconscious man. Like, would the doctors even come here? They should, but would they get here in time? He just wanted groceries, goddamit. Now he would be hungry and, possibly, with some unconscious guy who was shot laying in some alley. This day absolutely sucked. The blond gnawed at his lip, impatiently tapping his fingers against the phone as he held it to his ear. He hadn't been waiting long at all. In so little time, his mind was already full of crap - and he was sure only a few seconds had passed since he dialed the emergency number.

[Saga]

There were memories of how it used to be. His subconscious took him to times where he had a reason or two to look forward to the tomorrow. Compared to the past, the present Masato followed a rather dull routine. Or so it was because he lived in the past. Even that cast off street where he got shot was part of it. Knew the neighborhood not how drunk his partner and he got one night. The small talks were of no matter but he could clearly remember his friend's laughter.

 

For a genius like him to end up being so dull, so unmotivated, and so 'ordinary'..., probably it was another reason why Saya got so mad the last time they saw each other on the graveyard. But if the justice itself could seek no justice, then how was it supposed for one to be righteous? That's why he gave up on it once, and now the second time he had to live the unfairness of the system, it was a point of no return.

 

The ambulance reached the place just in time, even if unconscious he could hear the commotion around.

- Lift him on three. One, two, three...Up! .... Put the oxygen mask, quick! .... Are you his sibling? ..You must come with us, the police might have questions.

 

Masato completely forgot that another man found him. So the poor sentences he was able to detect made no sense. The male could feel numbing pain, but the brain failed to register yet the facts in its subconscious. Even if he wanted to ask someone to call Saya, he wasn't able to.

 

Meanwhile the news that they found an ex-agent shot on streets reached Naichou department of criminology. Such a powerful organ had its agents spread all over Japan and the world. Of course Misako Saya was on duty, one would say she was 'married' to her job, and as soon as she heard the ex-agent's name in the report, she quickly found her way off to the hospital he was taken to. If she wanted to silence the case and keep the police dogs away from Naichou ex-agents, she had to reach the hospital before the public Tokko bastards got there.

 

Maeda Hospital was in luck not far from Nagatacho district. Misako had an iron like patience but whenever it came to Gou, she swore that no other man could shake her grounds like this. In fact, she's been in love with Gou for all these years but soon after she met him for first time, she gave up. He was a man that she couldn't handle, as to say, a bite of cake which wouldn't fit her mouth.

 

With the black and classical Naichou uniform she stepped out the car, adjusting her glasses. The woman was tall and beautiful, one of the popular female agents in the department. Not only her look but even the atmosphere around her was different, like most of Naicho's agents though. Misako made her way to the third floor where she expected to question the doctors and yet there she saw a funky looking male. His appearance was improper for such an institution but even more, what was he doing before Gou's room door? She indeed heard that he was 'found', so could it be it was the so called 'witness'?

 

The heels made her presence known as she kept walking towards the male. It seemed she got first here, thanks god that Tokko guys still haven't arrived. Who knew how they'd treat this case. At the most they could even suspect the male who obviously had no such posture to be a skilled shooter.

- Good evening. I am Misako Saya, Naichou agent. - with a brief introduction she made it clear, that the Japanese FBI was standing before the male.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Fuck. Ichirou watched helplessly as the man in front of him slipped out of of consciousness and back in, in the meanwhile hurriedly talking to the doctors through the phone. He tried to stop the bleeding as much as he could, putting pressure from both sides. He had absolutely no idea how to handle a wound like this. If it was a cut, he'd apply pressure above, right? Or... No, crap, he couldn't even remember that much. Well, he never really was good under pressure, so it wasn't too surprising he couldn't remember anything.

 

Like that, with blood staining his hands, the blond waited, just hoping to keep this man alive somehow. He most certainly didn't need somebody dying in his arms - he hadn't had a nightmare in far too long to break the record. Finally, the ambulance came. At first, he was pushed aside, then questions were thrown at him from all sides. No, he wasn't a sibling, no, he didn't know anything about what happened, no, he couldn't identify the man at all.

 

At last someone gave him a towel to clean his hands, as well as the small bit of blood from his shirt. Then he was dragged off to a car. The police? He was a little bit too shaken by all this to actually realize what was going on completely. Ichirou was honestly worried about the shot guy. Would he even stay alive? Oh god, if he didn't they would blame him! How could he get out of that?!

 

As if he hadn't been stressed out enough already, at some point he was left alone in some building he'd never been to before. He bounced his leg anxiously, fiddling with his fingers as he looked around panicky. Would he be questioned? They said something about the police questioning him. What if they found him responsible for this man's wound? He probably was the main suspect. No, no, no!

 

He was ready to run away, somehow find the exit when he heard heels clacking against the floor. He looked back at the person who was making the noise, his heart stopping for a moment - he wasn't sure if from fear or from relief. It was a woman, thank god, maybe she could... His mouth dropped open when she said who she was, his body going tense again.

 

"I..." Ichirou couldn't find anything to say at the moment. He swallowed down nervously, glancing down at his feet. "I, uh... I-I don't know what happened, it... I... He just..." The blond struggled to find the words he wanted, fear completely taking over him. This was it, he would spend the rest of his life in some prison. "I just wanted to buy groceries.." He found himself saying, his eyes wide, bits of blood still underneath his fingernails. Oh man, maybe he would be killed right there? Wait, was death penalty still legal here? Or maybe they would make an exception for him. What if the guy who was shot was really important? Fuck, maybe he was some leader of something? No, then he would really die no matter what! If he wasn't killed off here, he would so be found by someone else.

 

When he watched things like this on TV, they didn't seem even half as scary as actually. Maybe it was just him, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he would not end up fine here.

[Saga]

In their world there were two kind of people. And Saya couldn't help but recall Masato Gou's words from when she first met him.

 

"In this world, I know two kind of people. Such that aren't aware of acting, who I call 'temporary confused' caused by the named such, and these that are aware of it, who I call 'actors'. Of course, rules exist for the exception - the innocent ones. When you have to judge in a world so wrong, can you see the innocence though?"

 

The Naichou agent quickly observed the nervous young man before her. He was partly pale. his speech jabbed, and his clothes despite being funky were with dried blood stains which were to a degree wiped. His nails and the skin area around though were colored with the dried blood of Gou, probably he tried to help the other...or he 'acted' helping him. How she could 'judge' now? She wasn't Gou. He was known for his precise deductions. Up until now his rate of precision was over 90 percents.

 

Just when she was to question the male, the small portable 'bug' plugged in her left ear signaled the message from the partner that came along with her but pretty much was ordered to stay in the car.

"Tokko policemen are 12 o'clock from the hospital entrance. You have less than 5 minutes."

 

The woman paused his lips, with a reach for the bridge of nose she pinched it lightly. There was no other choice but to wait for Masato to wake up, yet she couldn't let the other male free. If there were no victim and no witness, there was no case either. With a determined glance she out-stretched hand forth and pulled the male by the arm.

- You have to follow my orders, if you don't I will take it as you are one of the main suspects. Until Masato wakes up, you are not allowed to take one step away from him.

While she was 'making the rules', the woman opened the door to Gou's room. With a few glances she gathered all that could be in use for their 'escape'. The only thing they could use was the wheelchair to move Masato out this room. Her hand kept holding onto the young male, assuring he wouldn't escape while she was tugging the system links for blood transfusion off Gou's arm.

- Help me move him. Put him on that wheelchair.

 

Whatever she had planned, she had no intention of letting the other male walk out of this hospital before Gou testified. For now the best option was to use the backdoor, then get the males in the car, and probably drive to one of Naichou's hideouts used by agents 'in tight situations'.

 

Seemed like a plan.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Each second, each goddamn moment he had to spend in this suffocating silence was horrifying. The blond didn't realize fully that he was the one shuddering and not the room. His gaze darted around the room as he tried to find something to look at. Something, anything that would distract him from the fact that the phone call the woman received was probably about him, maybe about how he would be dealt with. He was this close to bursting out into hysterical laughter. The situation was unreal.

 

Oh, thank god, she decided to tell him something. It took him a while to process what he was told, nearly resulting in him tripping over his own feet. This was still confusing as hell. "I- I'll do whatever you tell me, then." He repeated, more to himself than to the woman. So he was a suspect. Why would he be held near the person he would've wanted to shoot, then? Or was he getting this all wrong again?!

 

They barged into the room, his breath taken away for a moment when he saw Masato in the bed, IV's all over. God, just what the fuck was he getting himself into? "Wait, you're moving him from the hospital?! Why? He... Isn't he in, like, critical state?" He questioned while hesitantly moving closer. Hell, he was too scared to refuse an order either way. With a groan, the blond helped the woman put Gou into the wheelchair, gnawing his lip to the point of it bleeding. "You, uh, you'll have all this where you're taking him, right? I... I don't want to be responsible for his death, and..." There he was, talking nonsense as always. Wasn't he just making himself look even more suspicious?

 

Ichirou bounced his leg nervously, hands still shaking as if he had a fever. "Why the fuck did this happen to me..." He whispered to himself, fiddling with his fingers. He wouldn't be of much help, it seemed. Not in this state, at least. Not knowing anything in such a situation was more than a little unsettling.

[Saga]

The male was cooperative but it wasn't enough for Saya to tell whether he was innocent or guilty. Moreover, she hasn't yet observed the crime scene. The woman always feared that one day she'd lose Masato to death. He was one of these types that would go beyond limits, human limits, just to save a life. He feared death not. After the loss of agent Naru, Masato took on his own path. She was sure that despite working as an ordinary bodyguard, he wouldn't give up on finding the one responsible for Naru's death. And everyone knew that case was related to a high degree with corruption. Naichou indeed fought corruption but when it involved the high class, they had to step back. This is how the world rolled, but Masato never agreed to it. Such foolish men always ended up in a coffin.

 

Saya didn't answer to the visibly worried questions of the civil. She was short on time, so as soon as Gou was on the wheelchair she snapped around Ichirou's wrist cuffs, connecting him to Gou's hand. She couldn't risk to lose the male in the heat of the moment.

- Move. We have to go. - three minutes we already off, if they didn't make it out of the building in the next two minutes they'd have to deal with the local police. Not like it wasn't the case under normal circumstances but whoever wanted to kill Masato, surely wanted him silenced. One couldn't even trust the police in such moments. Could it be he found something on the case from one year ago?

 

A small sparkle of joy tingled Saya from within - he still was in shape, huh. But then the fear caught up with the joy, if it were Gou, he surely found a way to destroy the organization that Naichou always faced a wall with. That would be troublesome in dangerous, especially when it comes to that man - if he obtained important information, he was like a sharp katana* thrown in the air. No matter where it'd land, it'd pierce through.

 

Gladly they made their way out of the floor at least in these two minutes left. The woman was relieved to see the dark car she rode with. A male got off to open the doors quickly, helping Ichirou and Masato on the backseats. It was such a chaotic moment, the agents didn't even spit a word but they cooperated with each other as if reading one's mind.

- Where we drive to? - the male fastened his belt, running the car engine with a twist of key.

- His place is not safe, so let's take them to the hideout in Minato-ku. - with the next order coming from Saya, the car made its way on the road.

 

Minato-ku was one of Tokyo prefectures which was pretty populated. And she needed a place where one was hard to find. Gladly Naichou had many hideouts around Japan, so it wasn't a difficult task to hide.

 

With the next abrupt turn the car took, Gou's body weight got him lean close to Ichirou, his head resting on the male's shoulder. Under another circumstances, Masato would have disliked that closeness. And the agents knew that very well, so the driver couldn't help but chuckle when saw Masato's head on Ichirou's shoulder from the rear-view mirror.

- Who'd think that the Black Eagle of Naichou would nap on a stranger's shoulder. - said so Saya glanced to the rear-view and chuckled as well at the joke.

- We should take a picture and blackmail him afterwards. - the ever known inside joke with 'blackmailing'.

- So what's with the dude next to him? The witness? - another glance to Ichirou from the rear-view mirror, - What's your name boy?

 

The ride would last at least thirty minutes, so why not have a civil conversation with the other? They could at least get to observe his behavior. It was an expected night for everyone in this car. The agents haven't seen Masato for one year, so they were glad to be able to see him. As for Ichirou, it seemed this night was one of the most unexpected for him.

 

Note: * Katana (刀) - a traditional Japanese sword.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

As if not answering his questions wasn't enough, he was soon cuffed up to the man he'd found before. His chest felt as if it was being squeezed from all sides, eyes going wide with panic. He was told to move, but his feet seemed to work on their own instead of his brain controlling them. Oh hell, he wanted to wake up from this goddamn nightmare. He hurried after the woman, feet tangling up almost to the point of him falling down. The fact that he managed to keep himself up was almost unreal.

 

They reached some sort of a car to which he was pushed in. He was this close to falling face down onto the seat, but, with his free hand, managed to actually get in place. Hell no, where the hell were they taking him?! His heart felt as if it was about to beat out of his chest as he gnawed on his lip to the point of it bleeding.

 

Ichirou jolted as a heavy head moved on his shoulder, closing his eyes as he tried to continue to breath somehow. They shot back open as he heard the question, confusion and fear mixing up in his eyes and everywhere within. "Fu... Fukui Ichirou." He muttered once he felt his voice coming back to him. The blond's eyes darted around the car before turning to the cuffs. "Can, uh, can you take these off?..." He asked quietly, barely loud enough to be heard through the humming of the car.

 

"Why am I here?" Ichirou found himself asking before he could stop himself. The man tugged on his shirt, frantically trying to get the last bits of blood out of the fabric. Oh no. Was he going to be killed wherever they're taking him? That was the only logical explanation he could think of. The man swiped his tongue over his bleeding lip, the metalic taste making him feel a little nauseous. No, screw the "a little".

 

He pressed a hand over his mouth as he felt something rising up from his stomach to his mouth. Honestly, it felt like something alive was slithering up to his mouth. Ichirou bent over, trying to keep everything in, squeezing his eyes shut. As if this day wasn't bad enough already.

[Saga]

None of his questions were answered, if anything Fukui had to know that the one in head of asking questions were them not him. And that was pretty obvious. Meanwhile Masato's senses started clinging to him. The darkness in his subconscious drew out another memory of his friend.

 

***

 

- Say, Masato. Why do you work for justice if you believe in no such? Is it your kind of hope? - his friend bluntly put the question, sitting next to Gou in one of the usual night bars they visited late at night after their shift was over.

 

Gou's hand held the cool glass of whiskey, as his dark eyes reflected in that goldish-brown liquid.

- Hope? - Masato's lips drew a grin, - Hope is a dangerous thing, Naru. Hope can drive a man insane.

- But it is also a thing that can keep a man sane, Masato. - the contra words of his friend kept echoing in his subconscious when his conscious collided with the reality.

 

***

 

Car's engine was roaring and blurred voices that sounded as nothing but mumbling. It gave him a headache beside the one he really had due to lack of sleep. Sudden motion disturbed him after he clearly heard a male's name, "Fukui Ichirou". Who the heck was Fukui Ichirou, he thought. But the next moment his long eyelashes lifted to see a young looking male bending forth. He didn't seem to hang it there well.

 

As a clean freak himself, Masato's low and husky voice pierced the commotion in the car,

- Don't you dare throw up in my feet, brat.

 

With his still pale skin, Gou tried to sit properly. He had no clue what was going on, besides his vision was rather blur due to the anaesthetics they gave him in the hospital to induce the insensitivity to pain. Now, had someone to explain him what was going on? He wasn't in mood and the reason was rather lame - lack of nicotine.

 

Dark eyes scanned the car, two out of three people he knew. But because he had no recollection of the minutes before losing his conscious he couldn't really remember the male's face. Moreover, he had a delusion that it was his best friend not a stranger - it wasn't possible, so he blamed it fully to the body shock. A very worrisome, at least worrisome for Fukui, question left Masato's lips,

- Who is this guy?

 

The fact that his ex-Naichou partners helped him out of the hospital wasn't surprising, so the only thing he would wonder about was, what a stranger did in the car and that being said - cuffed to Masato's hand.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Oh, fuck. These two words were the only ones that crossed his mind before everything he was trying to hold in spilled out. He gagged as he squeezed his eyes shut, his last meal now on the ground next to him. God, the man was awake - and the only thing he said was not to throw up on his feet. How nice is that? The blond stayed like that, bent over, wiping his mouth with his hand as he took in air with short breaths. He couldn't even get himself to breathe properly...

 

"I... Sorry..." He muttered out, still feeling nauseous. He was not cut out for situations as stressful as this. His heart was beating like crazy, his head was spinning and the fact that he could taste bile on his tongue wasn't helping either. The man finally got himself to sit up properly, his eyes closed tightly as he prayed for this nightmare to end already. He wanted to go home, there was nothing in the whole world that he wanted more than to get back, lay down in his bed and forget this ever happened.

 

Who is this guy? Ichirou wasn't sure if what he was feeling was frustration or fear, but that question definitely didn't make him feel good. He didn't risk talking, in fear of saying something wrong or, even worse, throwing up again, but in his mind he was cursing the guy in all ways and languages he knew. Hell, if he hadn't stopped, if he'd just ignored this man, he could be home right now, eating some pasta and enjoying a simple life. But no, he just had to stumble upon some shot guy who clearly already hated him.

 

What reason did he have to hate him?! Was he angry that he saved his life? Hah, maybe this guy shot himself. Some crazy goddamn idiot.

[Saga]

His brows formed a well curved frown. Great. He threw up.

Masato shifted himself closer to the window which slid down accordingly. Thanks god that Misako knew him well.

 

- Go easier on him, Masa. - the driver chuckled, seeing how pale the young male was.

- So, who is that brat? - reaching hand to his nose bridge, the ex-agent pinched slightly the patch of skin. He felt sick as well, but the more after that dude threw up down next to him. The drugs were more than enough, now he had to handle even the stench of vomit.

- Actually..we hoped you could answer that. Do you recognize him not? He is the one supposed to be the witness and the one who helped you to the hospital. - stated so the woman.

 

With a brief glance Gou slid his pupils to eye corners, to look at the other. The male looked around his 20's, his style was flashy and enough to make one think such types were bound to get into a trouble. With another shift of pupils the ex-agent glanced to Fukui's hands and followed each gesture that could help with reading of the body language.

 

He had no recollection, truly.

But the male looked so nervous and uncomfortable. Yet, anyone could pull this off as a matter of act. It wasn't enough to judge.

 

- Ah, we are here. - the driver made a turn to park in front of a huge mansion. The house was just one kilometer after the first turn of the main road. Behind and around it one could enjoy the evergreen forest, - You have to stay here until that case is solved. And your place is out of question as you know, Masa.

 

Gou knew very well that they couldn't afford to let the young male walk away, even if he was just a witness he was in danger right now. So, another "great" news - he had to handle some punk. The worst.

 

- Give me the keys. - Masato tried his luck even though he knew Misako.

- Ah, no. Until we get inside, then on we can have him cuffed to a chair if you will.

 

By the look of it, Fukui wasn't even a step closer to his freedom. Nor was Masato.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Ichirou leaned closer to the window, breathing in the fresh air to keep himself from throwing up again. The guy acting like that didn't help either, but he couldn't pull away properly, as their hands were cuffed together. The blond let out a quiet sigh, closing his eyes as the others basically decided his fate. Still, he couldn't believe this guy, Masato didn't remember a thing about him. Seriously? He saved his life, and he couldn't remember?!

 

The rest of the way, he just sat there quietly, weighing his options. What were the chances of him dying? Probably high, if this guy couldn't remember him in the end. If they decided he was the one who shot him, what would happen? Prison? Death? Torture? None of them seemed nice in any way, honestly.

 

"H-Hey, when can I get home? I have a cat, I can't leave it like that..." Ichirou spoke as he got out of the car, carefully avoiding stepping into his vomit. "Can you at least make sure someone gets to her? Please?" The blond questioned, eyes going wide. Hell, if he was here for a longer period, his cat could die... And it would all be Masato's fault.

 

Ichirou walked without much thought. He was just tugged along where he needed, so he just tried not to trip over anything. He needed to take a shower, to get rid of the blood, he wanted to go to bed and sleep and forget all this even happened. The man kept chewing his lip to the point of it bleeding, the metallic taste making him feel sick again, but the pain just proved it wasn't all a horrible nightmare. "Look, I just want to go home..." He muttered helplessly, feeling as if he was about to have a panic attack. Anyone would in this kind of situation, even ones without any disorder.

[Saga]

Not used to be led around, the male tugged the other by the cuffs his way as he got off the car. Masato's worst night. As he followed after his ex-colleagues, the woman's phone rang. Of course Naichou department couldn't be left in the dark for too long. Sooner or later she would have gotten that call. Needless to say, Masato's mood was darkening by each next second. And how couldn't it? His feet were all covered by whatever that punk ate, he wouldn't be surprised if he used some hard drugs as well which could be as a catalyst during the rushed car race - result, stench and stickiness.

 

They stood before the hideout's door when Misako turned to Gou with a flip of the phone lid.

- Sorry, Masa. The boss wants to see me. I will be back tomorrow's morning. Yamahito will stay on guard, just in case.

 

Masa let out a sigh and passed by her,

- Just don't do anything rushed. I am not part of Naichou anymore, so don't treat me as the likes of you.

 

The woman couldn't say anything. All Masa said was true. He wasn't one of them and she had to treat him as just another case, even if Naichou kept close eyes on ex-agents. But even now she hoped that one day he would come back; speak of the impossible.

 

Just when Gou was about to enter, the "extra baggage" spoke,

- H-Hey, when can I get home? I have a cat, I can't leave it like that...Can you at least make sure someone gets to her? Please?

 

With his pleads Misako had to soften and smile,

- Hopefully it won't take long. But if it does, we will get your cat, rest assured. - with a polite nod of chin, the woman left. She couldn't make her boss wait, especially when he was even moodier than Gou.

 

The males finally entered the house, as usual the ex-agent was distracted by his thoughts. It was always like this, no matter where and under what circumstances, he had that self-abstracting ability. But somehow the low mumble of Fukui got his attention, "Look, I just want to go home..."

 

Gou stopped all of sudden even if it caused a bump-between. It was irritating, was the other one a spoiled kid or something? With a ready-to-go speech, Masa turned to the boy with an abrupt pull of the hand to grasp the cuffed wrist of Fukui. The connection between them made the distance short enough for the ex-agent to feel the iron smell of the male's mouth.

- Let me make it clear for you. Good deeds exist not. If you thought you surely saved a life and now you are being wronged, I assure you; you are far from the truth. Even if I let you go, and we assume you are not one of the suspected. The fact alone that you were a witness will walk you to your death-bed. So, do me a favor. Stop whining.

 

That being said, Masato was about to let go of the boy's hand. Yet, his sharp eyes caught the fingertips of his. With a silent avert of eyes, he let go off the other male's hand, "Interesting. He is not the sniper. The fingers of a shooter are deformed by the hold of the weapon. So one thing is for sure, he is not the one who shot me but I can't let him go. Not until I am sure he is not part of it...Moreover, it is true. If I let him go now, he might end up in the dark end of some street with bullet through his skull."

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Ichirou felt such relief when he was promised someone would take care of his cat. He got her as a kitten from a shelter... Hell, the two of them went through a lot, if you could say that. The cat has a few surgeries, too - he had to pay for them from his own pocket, which he was pretty sure had a hole. He still didn't know all that well how all the electricity and water bills worked, he always had to pay more than he thought he would. He still managed, mostly by selling his drawings.

 

He mouthed a quiet 'thank you' to the woman, feeling as if he had at least one less trouble now. Another seemed to take its place, though, as after his muttered out words he found himself bumping against the man in front. He stepped back immediately, opening his mouth to apologize, but no sound came out either way. Fuck, he was scary. Ichirou's heart raced as he gulped down, unable to take Gou's gaze. The blond looked down, a shudder running down his body at the words about his death bed. Great, so he was going to die... If not now, then someone else would kill him? Fantastic!

 

Ichirou breathed in slowly through his nose, lips pursed tightly. Fine, he would stay quiet then. Closing his eyes for a moment, the man bit down on his lip again, a quiet hiss slipping past them when he felt the wound. He really thought he'd gotten rid of that habit. Attempting to rid himself of all unnecessary thoughts, the blond just followed quietly. He couldn't do anything, right?

 

Even so, questions were still there, making air heavy around him. "So what are you going to do to me? If... If you decide that I am at fault, what then? And what if I'm not?" He questioned, deciding there was nothing else to lose. He'd already puked anyway, there was no pride to protect. If anything, he would probably be hit and told to shut up, right? Or maybe they'd knock him out and tie him up somewhere. At this point, he was really regretting all those horror movies he'd watched.

 

What were the chances of him being thrown into a small cell with just a bucket for him to pee in? Probably one percent, if not less. And still, his brain thought of it as an actual, realistic threat. "Also... I did save your life." Ichirou murmured, looking away. He did, that wasn't a lie. He didn't understand crap about what he was told, honestly. There are no good deeds? Man, this guy really saw the world as all gray and black, there were probably no other colors, not even white. Everything was pessimistic and evil... And that wasn't how the world worked at all.

[Saga]

As a professional, well at least ex-professional agent, Gou already knew the answer to whether the boy was innocent or not. There was no way for experienced killer to throw up by the presented reasons. And the master-brain, well, Masato already knew who sat behind all - that was the reason his life was at stake. But if he let him walk away right now, as a witness he could be involved in an impossibly dangerous situation. All Gou could do right now was to play dumb.

 

The male ignored whatever the other said for now; Masa wasn't really social, which was a trouble when he happened to stumble upon the talkative type. But what more occupied his mind was - that stink. He had to shower; with or without the talkative brat, it was out of question to stay this dirty.

 

Gou carelessly headed for the bathroom upstairs, not minding the male that followed. As he thought, with or without it didn't matter as long as he was clean again. Though, the brat could be of help. Masato would have it hard with this useless arm of his.

 

- Before I answer your questions which are a hot spotted gayzer... Let's shower first. Any objections?

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

And once more, all of his questions were ignored. Sure, he was probably the only one who cared about himself enough to worry how he was going to end up. Then again, anyone else didn't have a reason to worry... What a shitty situation he was in.

 

As he was tugged along, the blond dared not voice his dissatisfaction. Just follow, just obey - those were the most important things he could possibly do. Though, he still tried to keep his distance, since clearly this man wanted his personal space. Doing so with handcuffs wasn't the easiest, but he managed, even if his arm was in a horribly uncomfortable position. At least he tried not to make Gou feel the same.

 

Ichirou only noticed he'd been led to the bathroom when the other mentioned it... Along with his questions. "I, err, no... I guess?" Seriously? Shower? That was the most important thing for the other.

 

"I'm not sure how we're supposed to remove our shirts... I mean... These'll get in the way, r-right...?" Before he could finish, he found his question useless. There was no way to remove the handcuffs, anyway. A quiet sigh slipped past his lips as he looked around, trying to think of some solution. He just hoped it wouldn't be tearing the shirt - maybe Gou had a change of clothes, but he'd be left with nothing.

[Saga]

Once they were behind closed doors, and mostly having the agreement of the other part, Gou reached hand for a drawer under the sink. It had all sort of gadgets; the one he needed was just about under all the mess - a pair of pincers. Unexpectedly having the luxury to have a bit of free time, Masa's mind kept scrolling through the observed information.

 

A turn to the other, the pincers placed onto the cuff chain.

 

It was a young boy, self-expressed as it is. One would think no one was there to listen to him, or he was just about every time 'shut' in the past.

 

The ex-agent glanced up, eyes staring at the other as the cuffs fell apart from the pressure of the pincers.

 

Cats were one of the pets for loners. So the boy was disowned. If his parents were dead...well, Gou knew the best how this could be 'expressed'.

 

At any rate, once they were free - the male locked the door and took the key with him, leading the other behind the slide-door for the actual bathroom. The male took off his clothes, pushing with his foot a small bathroom-chair to sit on.

- Run the water. - tired and in pain, at least this much the other could help with; moreover, once he found a seat it was rather exhausting to stand up again.

 

Masa's wide back relaxed as shoulders dropped down for elbows to guide them onto knee caps. The scar across his back was surely visible but doubtfully one could say that it still hurt from within; a place Gou locked long time ago.

- If I justify you for innocent, do you think that your life would be back to normal? - the ex-agent was surely one of rhetorical questioners yet now and then he just, like any other, left the questions float in the air. Without answers - just questions.

 

- Don't get me wrong, kid. I've just seen enough of death, and somehow I am already fed up with it. All you have to do is wait until I sort this mess out, then on you are free to live your life to fullest.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Ichirou kept silent, watching how Gou rummaged through the drawer. What was he even searching for? Glancing at his hands, the man could see they were shaking. Being alone with the other was all but relaxing. Each second it seemed like Gou was just beginning to hate him more and more...

 

He felt his body tense up as the ex-agent placed the pincers on the cuffs... And removed them. Ichirou stood frozen - he didn't even suspect the other would attempt to set them free. He didn't know what to expect at all, honestly. He followed after Gou to the actual bathroom, lightly rubbing at his wrist where the handcuffs were. Hands still shaking, he tried to calm down at least a little bit.

 

Even if he tried, he wasn't able to keep his eyes off the other man while he undressed. Quietly, Ichirou did the same, leaving his clothes folded on the ground. He jumped at the order, turning on the shower. He used his hand to check the temperature until he thought it would be fine. "Is this okay?" He asked, placing the shower head in place. Licking his lips nervously, Ichirou barely brushed his fingers over Gou's scar, making it seem as if the touch was accidental. He really was full of secrets, right? He couldn't expect to learn them all, he doubted he could learn even one.

 

Ichirou bit down on his lip slightly as Masa spoke, turning his gaze away for a moment, even if the other couldn't see him. He didn't think it was worth putting his hopes up. "Thank you." This was all he could think of to say. "Do you need... Help with washing yourself?" He asked hesitantly, trying to remove all of the dried blood from underneath his fingernails. The sight of it still made him sick.

 

"How long do you think it will take for this to end? And... Do you think I'll manage to forget about this?" Ichirou asked, just loud enough for the question to be heard over the running water. Pain mixed with fear in his voice as a shudder ran down his body. How exactly would he forget? How was anyone able to forget the feeling of blood over their hands? The fear that someone could die right next to you? How did people live after going through this?

[Saga]

The sharp eyes of Masa could never miss a detail, so was with how neatly folded were the boy's clothes. The man though said nothing, his thoughts kept roaming in and out - to be well managed, having enough of freedom to fold clothes. It must be nice to be a man of order, plans and schedules. But life wasn't something you could throughout plan.

 

Once the water ran, Masa checked the water when presented with the opportunity. With a quiet agreement he averted eyes to the boy's direction once the faint contact against his scar was made. The ex-agent never had any kind of complex, even the scar itself was something he would never remove even though the modern technology offered plenty of chances and ways.

 

After the other listened quietly to Masa, there were these gentle yet sincere words of appreciation.

 

Thank you.

 

"So the brat has his manners despite the flashy appearance.", Masa's thoughts kept up with the lingering silence even though no words escaped him.

 

Do you need... Help with washing yourself?

 

What if, he though. What if for just a moment he stopped observing minds and purely asked someone to do something for him without any second though, without any need to test them. What if--..

 

How long do you think it will take for this to end? And... Do you think I'll manage to forget about this?

 

A stolen moment from the next question, the boy seemed rather shaken from what happened. Was it actually Masa being used to blood and death? How could a human get used to such a thing? ..A bad after taste, he felt.

 

Masa's lips stretched lightly - Impossible. No one should get used to such a thing. Yet there he stood, quiet to the fact that there were people in this world that could shut off any emotion, void oneself from the pure right to be happy. A light chuckle escaped him - Happiness? What he was actually thinking?

 

He could never expect people to remain even if he wished so. So was with happiness. They all came and went, and cowardly he just watched under the pretense that he 'observed'. So was with that trespassing boy. Like a thief he broke in Masa's life, saving it and when all would be over he'd be gone too. So there was no meaning to be sincere with just a passing by stranger. It was just another mind to observe, like any other.

 

- Wash my back. - with the idea that he would make a youngster touch a scar deep enough to trouble anybody, he decided it was a good start of his deduction.

[Zombie_In_A_Box]

Ichirou's body froze for a few moments as he heard the chuckle. What was the man even laughing about in such a situation? He couldn't wrap his head around it, his eyebrows furrowing slightly while his gaze didn't move a millimeter from the back of Masa's head, almost like he could stare into his eyes like that.

 

And still, he was too scared to ask what was that about. The blond felt his heart raise the slightest bit, hands trembling faintly while taking the sponge firmly in his right. He poured some gel on it, squeezing the fabric to make it foam. The young man brought the sponge down, beginning to wash Masa's back with soft, rhythmic moves. He seemed to be careful when it came to touching the scar or if he got close to the bandages. He didn't want to cause any harm. After all, he was being held here against his will. If he did something bad, something to hurt the man in front of him, he would surely be considered guilty of shooting him, as well.

 

Ichirou let his other hand skim gently over the skin, washing off the foam after he was done with the sponge. It was weird to be this intimate with someone he barely knew. It felt a bit wrong, in a way. "Anything else?" He asked, turning his attention back to his fingernails; rather, what was still underneath them. Ichirou shook each time he remembered what got him into this mess in the first place, desperately trying to get the blood out. No matter how hard he tried, bits of it still staid where they were. That both confused him and pissed him off. He wanted to forget, at least for some time. And now this was a reminder of the bloody scene whenever he looked at his hands.

 

Ichirou looked down at the chair Masa was sitting on, stepping slightly to the side to distract himself from his thought by observing how his body looked. Maybe he could get some paper and a pencil, he could find what to do while he waited until someone decided what would the rest of his life be. Although he was explained, well enough, that his life wouldn't return to what it used to be, he hated being here. Sure, after a while he could probably get used to this, but he didn't want to get used to it. Yet, nobody here really cared for his wishes if they went against the pre-made decision, right?