neko_kirin3104 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
neko_kirin3104) wrote2013-05-25 02:50 pm
neko_kirin3104) wrote2013-05-25 02:50 pm
[Arashi] Kindred Minds
Title: Kindred Minds
Drama/Pairing(s): Last Hope + Kazoku Game + Kagi no Kakatta Heya / YoshimotoHatano + EnomotoHatano + YoshimotoEnomoto (Sakuraiba + Tennen Pair + Yama Pair)
Prompt: 41 Cold
Word Count: 2542
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Friendship/Drama Crossover
Summary: An amusing afternoon encounter at the park turns into a special project for Kouya Yoshimoto.
Disclaimer: I own nobody. Purely fictional, of course. :3
Notes: Inspired by a prompt from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
je_prompts, and Yoshimoto taking my muses hostage. X/
Kouya Yoshimoto regards the man before him with undisguised contempt. The simpleton just keeps smiling like the idiot that he is, blissfully oblivious to Death staring him straight in the eye.
“What do you want?” he grunts, slipping his phone into the pocket of his coat without breaking eye contact.
“Well...” The man rubs a hand to his nape, his smile twisting into an angle of awkwardness. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s just that the way you were crouching a while ago, that could be bad for your posture, you know.”
Yoshimoto intends to deepen his frown and say something coarse to scare the moron away, but for some reason he feels his brows parting, then lifting up in a gradually mounting look of amusement.
“And your bag,” the man keeps saying. “Carrying something that heavy around all day must really be taxing on your shoulders. Ah, they don’t look so good anymore, see?”
Yoshimoto’s temper flares back up instantly. He slaps the hand reaching out for one of his sloping shoulders and snaps, “They’ve always been like this, all right!”
“Ah, sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” The idiot bows his head vigorously with each blurted apology. “I didn’t mean to offend. At the very least...” The man’s appraising gaze shifts from left to right, “They seem to be sloping quite equally, ne?”
The barefaced remark, spoken with a smile that did not even falter an inch, makes Yoshimoto feel more conflicted than annoyed. While he is not at all amused by the undue attention his shoulders are getting, something about this man in front of him seems to have short-circuited his ability to feel anything even remotely close to rage.
He casually shifts the strap of his bag closer to the nook of his neck, suddenly more aware of its weight, before speaking in a low, though barely menacing voice, “We seem to have gone off track, but I’m asking you again, what do you want?”
“You were watching that boy, weren’t you?”
For a brief moment, the sudden change of expression on the man’s face actually surprises Yoshimoto. Then, he starts laughing. Chortling spurts of madness rising in pitch with his growing delight. As though he’s never seen a more ridiculous sight than a simpleton furrowing his brows, trying his best to look threatening.
Doesn’t this idiot know that nothing short of the Devil himself can intimidate a man like Kouya Yoshimoto?
The man grabs his wrist in an unexpectedly firm grip, making him flinch a little, the rest of his laughter hitching in his throat along with his breath. But he recovers just as quickly and stretches his lips in a jeering grin, his eyes fixed on the slender fingers blocking the blood flow to his hand, “Ii ne...”
“You are a strange man, and I don’t need to know your intentions.”
Yoshimoto looks up just in time to see another smile forming on the man’s lips. Talk about being strange—
“But since that boy has long since left,” the man keeps saying, “and you don’t seem to have anywhere else to go anyway, why don’t you join me for a little bit?”
Yoshimoto looks the man over for the first time as he rubs the feeling back to his wrist. Decked in a checkered long-sleeve, black slacks and shiny leather shoes, and carrying a take-out box from some fancy cake shop he has yet to try himself, the moron seems harmless enough.
Except for the fact that he has just invited someone whom he has called out for spying just moments ago to an afternoon tête-à-tête in the park.
Now, what does that say about his sanity?
Unless this seemingly innocent invitation is merely a front for something else. Something Yoshimoto can’t quite place at the moment.
The same way he can’t quite read into the man’s character—what he’s thinking, what his intentions are, whatever the hell he’s all about.
“You don’t even have to tell me your name if you don’t want to,” Checkers says, lifting the box to eye-level in a final attempt to convince him. “I’ll even share this with you, since you’re obviously hungry.”
Yoshimoto feels like the man has just read his mind, but his interest is finally piqued beyond all conscious inhibitions. He is hungry, after all! And whatever is inside that box sure seems worth the trouble.
Before his usually cautious mind can even catch up, Yoshimoto finds himself already lounging on a bench beside the man he has just met, sharing the contents of the take-out box of cake between themselves.
“Un! This is seriously delicious!” he exclaims without abandon, stuffing the last bite of the strawberry chocolate roll into his mouth. He chews slowly as he levels his gaze with the man who quickly turns his eyes down to the last slice of cake in the box.
“Ah! Take this then.” The man lifts the box and holds it out to him.
Not one to say no to food generously and willingly offered, Yoshimoto grins and takes the box, closing its lid gingerly before stuffing it into his bag, while a gaudy-sounding “Thank you!” rumbles deep in his throat.
Strange that he has rather easily warmed up to the man within a mere half-hour.
Stranger still that he feels quite fine with how things are turning out, too—
“You do look like you’ll eat anything,” the man chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning heavier on the bench.
“I’ll eat anything that’s free. That’s for sure,” he quips, propping an elbow on top of the bench and cupping his face in his hand to better fix his eyes on the other man.
“I wish Kei-kun would have even just a little of your enthusiasm.”
Yoshimoto hears the sigh in his companion’s voice and feels a taunting smile forming on his lips. This isn’t the first time the name has slipped into their conversation. And even though he has yet to figure out what the man is all about beyond the checkered shirt and the ready smile, he feels confident he can tell this much—
“Did your lover ditch you or something?”
The man shakes his head and shifts uncomfortably on the bench, “Ah, it’s nothing like that!”
Unbidden warmth floods Yoshimoto’s heart at the sight of the grown man fidgeting almost like an embarrassed girl beside him. He almost loses his cool and suddenly feels the urge to move away from the startlingly consuming space. He clears his throat and straightens himself on his side of the bench, his eyes focusing on the farthest possible point in front of him.
“Although, I do sometimes fear he just might disappear one day without telling me.”
The hint of uncertainty in the man’s voice makes Yoshimoto turn his gaze back to him curiously. The look of embarrassment from just a while ago has already been overshadowed by the doubt that’s apparently consuming what’s left of the man’s optimism.
“Do tell,” he finds himself mumbling almost tenderly, while inwardly cringing at his sudden, uncharacteristic show of concern for a stranger.
Then again, he isn’t much of a stranger anymore if Yoshimoto already knows the man is the same age as he is, a doctor at some advanced medical center (though, he still has his doubts about this one), and is currently dating another man.
Oh, and he also has this aura about him that’s deceptively childlike. An amusing contrast to the sharp and intelligent look his eyes took on when he was casually advising Yoshimoto on diet and posture a while ago.
It is this gap between a laid-back guy and a professional man and how smoothly Checkers can shift from one to the other that has so engrossed Yoshimoto’s mind that he actually almost forgot about the messed up family he’s working on beyond the confines of this suddenly warm and homey park bench.
“You know, I’d really rather not,” the man chortles, looking absurdly boyish with a playful smile hanging at one corner of his lips. “I probably shouldn’t be talking to a stalker, in the first place.”
A strange sound escapes Yoshimoto’s throat. It seems like he’s laughing, but only for the sake of it. Sans any hidden threat, nor evil plot forming in his head.
“Really? You’re realizing that just now, huh?”
He can hardly remember the last time he’s actually felt this kind of delight. Pure and unstained by the evil that’s residing within him.
Checkers joins him in his laughter soon enough, their mirthful chuckles tearing through the rest of the wall that’s been gradually crumbling between them since they sat down together.
“Seriously, though, thanks for keeping me company, Stalker-san,” the grinning man holds out a hand to him that he willingly grips and shakes.
“My pleasure, Checkers-san.”
The man looks down at his shirt and breathes out an, “Oh!” before chuckling again. “I should be going back to the hospital soon.” Their hands parted and a bitter smile almost instantly overshadows the man’s face. “I only took this time off to see Kei-kun...”
Yoshimoto raises an eyebrow and asks, “Were you upset?’
“A little. But I should really be used to it by now.”
“Hm...” He crosses his arms over his chest, his heart almost melting at the look of sadness in the other man’s eyes, his interest for this case building so fast, he’s already decided on an answer, long before his mind can even catch up and form the question.
“Relationships can’t all be perfect, ne?” the man keeps saying in a solitary bid to convince himself.
Yoshimoto’s brows furrow in uncontained curiosity, his heartbeat accelerating with a rapidly mounting anticipation, laced with a hint of fury. “Is this Kei-kun treating you well?”
“Well, we all have our flaws.” The man’s voice is a mere mumble, lacking neither conviction nor good humor. His eyes are sightlessly focused into space, perhaps searching for the answers he already knows he can never find. “It’s just that, I wish I knew more about him, you know.”
A snigger passes through Yoshimoto’s lips, heralding a mocking retort that’s so-comfortably him. “If you met him the same way we did, I doubt it’s ever going to be any better.”
“Hey, I don’t make a habit of picking up strangers in the park!” the man quips with quasi-scorn, the unmistakable grin at the tip of his lips instantly giving him away.
“Only those who spy on boys, have a big appetite, and equally sloping shoulders?” Yoshimoto keeps taunting, loving the way he’s finally settling back into the character he knows best.
“Those are rather charming points, yeah,” the man chortles, crossing his arms and leaning comfortably into the bench once again. “But you’re an interesting guy, Stalker-san. I bet not much different from Kei-kun.” He turns an impish glance at Yoshimoto and adds, “And I did want to give that boy some time away from you.”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” he smirks, looking as deeply into those eyes as he dares.
“I’m sure,” the man shots back, steadily holding the penetrating gaze, his warm breath filling the space between them.
Yoshimoto’s skin tingles with the unexpected sensation. Once again, he feels the need to move away and swiftly turns his head to the other side where his gaze lands easily on a group of kids who have just gathered around the playground set a mere half-a-dozen steps away from their bench. A rather nostalgic sight that surprisingly cuts through his heart, making him feel warm... Almost at peace and human.
“Ah, I guess I’ll be going now, then.”
Yoshimoto turns his attention back to the man just in time to see him slap his hands to his lap before jumping enthusiastically to his feet.
“Wait, you’re letting me go just like that?” he exclaims in mock surprise, widening his eyes and mouth exaggeratedly.
The man merely smiles at him and says, “Your eyes don’t really hide much. You are an evil man, Stalker-san. But you’re not completely heartless.”
A bemused smile stretches his lips. Anyone who can say such rude things with a wide, unfaltering smile, has got to be harboring a few demons of his own.
But if this man thinks he’s got Kouya Yoshimoto all figured out just like that, he’ll have to think again. “Are you not worried I might kill that boy?”
“You care about that boy. The expressions on your face while you were watching him tell as much.”
He almost loses himself in the jeering laughter building up in his throat. “You think?”
The man’s smile suddenly melts into a frown that is both mocking and threatening, it almost makes Yoshimoto’s heart soar ten different ways. “Though, if you’d been leering,” he says, “it’d been a totally different matter, and I’d probably be beating you up myself.”
A secret smile, warm and deeply ingrained in Yoshimoto’s heart instantly rises to his lips. “Shige-chan is a good kid.”
“I know,” the man says, his smile warm and openly directed at him.
A couple of months later, Kouya Yoshimoto finds himself crouching behind another bush, with his trusty phone poised at eye level before him, watching over his new subjects.
On a bench not much far from him is Checkers, now wearing a long-sleeved knitted sweater with tribal patterns and carrying on a seemingly one-sided conversation with himself. Beside him is another man, Kei-kun no doubt, looking as detached, stiff and expressionless as a robot.
No, he bets a robot has a wider range of motions, and even knows more expressions than this man.
Kei-kun is a short, deceptively unassuming guy, bespectacled and—decked in a red sweater over a white polo and a tie, with earphones stuck to his ears—looks more like a college student than a full-grown adult working for a Tokyo-based security firm.
It’s amazing how much one can find out about a person with the barest of efforts these days—
Kei Enomoto, Outcast employee. Tokyo Total Security.
Takumi Hatano, General Practitioner. Teito University Hospital.
Introduced by a mutual acquaintance, Junko Aoto.
Dating for almost six months now.
Still going nowhere fast...
He knows he’s so much better off messing up another family right now than crouching here and watching over this couple of dysfunctional lovers. But ever since he met Hatano in the park on that awkwardly remarkable afternoon, he has never been able to get the look of sadness he saw in those eyes out of his mind.
And this Kei-kun just has to turn out to be the absurdly amusing character he has always hoped he would be.
The guy does have the kind of aura about him that Yoshimoto recognizes almost instantly. Like that of a man living a double life full of secrets and demons and all else in-between.
He would never have been able to keep himself away, even if he wanted to—
The bespectacled man suddenly turns his head to his direction, staring fixedly at him without flinching a muscle on his rigid face.
Yoshimoto looks over the top of his phone and meets the man’s gaze head on, his heartbeat rapidly going wild at the unspoken challenge passing through those watchful and unblinking eyes.
“Ii ne...” he croons.
***I just realized I haven’t written anything at all to support my third favorite pair in the fandom. So here’s me showing some Sakuraiba love! [though, the very subtle Yama just has to sneak in at the end, ne? xD] ♥
Drama/Pairing(s): Last Hope + Kazoku Game + Kagi no Kakatta Heya / YoshimotoHatano + EnomotoHatano + YoshimotoEnomoto (Sakuraiba + Tennen Pair + Yama Pair)
Prompt: 41 Cold
Word Count: 2542
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Friendship/Drama Crossover
Summary: An amusing afternoon encounter at the park turns into a special project for Kouya Yoshimoto.
Disclaimer: I own nobody. Purely fictional, of course. :3
Notes: Inspired by a prompt from
je_prompts, and Yoshimoto taking my muses hostage. X/Kouya Yoshimoto regards the man before him with undisguised contempt. The simpleton just keeps smiling like the idiot that he is, blissfully oblivious to Death staring him straight in the eye.
“What do you want?” he grunts, slipping his phone into the pocket of his coat without breaking eye contact.
“Well...” The man rubs a hand to his nape, his smile twisting into an angle of awkwardness. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s just that the way you were crouching a while ago, that could be bad for your posture, you know.”
Yoshimoto intends to deepen his frown and say something coarse to scare the moron away, but for some reason he feels his brows parting, then lifting up in a gradually mounting look of amusement.
“And your bag,” the man keeps saying. “Carrying something that heavy around all day must really be taxing on your shoulders. Ah, they don’t look so good anymore, see?”
Yoshimoto’s temper flares back up instantly. He slaps the hand reaching out for one of his sloping shoulders and snaps, “They’ve always been like this, all right!”
“Ah, sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” The idiot bows his head vigorously with each blurted apology. “I didn’t mean to offend. At the very least...” The man’s appraising gaze shifts from left to right, “They seem to be sloping quite equally, ne?”
The barefaced remark, spoken with a smile that did not even falter an inch, makes Yoshimoto feel more conflicted than annoyed. While he is not at all amused by the undue attention his shoulders are getting, something about this man in front of him seems to have short-circuited his ability to feel anything even remotely close to rage.
He casually shifts the strap of his bag closer to the nook of his neck, suddenly more aware of its weight, before speaking in a low, though barely menacing voice, “We seem to have gone off track, but I’m asking you again, what do you want?”
“You were watching that boy, weren’t you?”
For a brief moment, the sudden change of expression on the man’s face actually surprises Yoshimoto. Then, he starts laughing. Chortling spurts of madness rising in pitch with his growing delight. As though he’s never seen a more ridiculous sight than a simpleton furrowing his brows, trying his best to look threatening.
Doesn’t this idiot know that nothing short of the Devil himself can intimidate a man like Kouya Yoshimoto?
The man grabs his wrist in an unexpectedly firm grip, making him flinch a little, the rest of his laughter hitching in his throat along with his breath. But he recovers just as quickly and stretches his lips in a jeering grin, his eyes fixed on the slender fingers blocking the blood flow to his hand, “Ii ne...”
“You are a strange man, and I don’t need to know your intentions.”
Yoshimoto looks up just in time to see another smile forming on the man’s lips. Talk about being strange—
“But since that boy has long since left,” the man keeps saying, “and you don’t seem to have anywhere else to go anyway, why don’t you join me for a little bit?”
Yoshimoto looks the man over for the first time as he rubs the feeling back to his wrist. Decked in a checkered long-sleeve, black slacks and shiny leather shoes, and carrying a take-out box from some fancy cake shop he has yet to try himself, the moron seems harmless enough.
Except for the fact that he has just invited someone whom he has called out for spying just moments ago to an afternoon tête-à-tête in the park.
Now, what does that say about his sanity?
Unless this seemingly innocent invitation is merely a front for something else. Something Yoshimoto can’t quite place at the moment.
The same way he can’t quite read into the man’s character—what he’s thinking, what his intentions are, whatever the hell he’s all about.
“You don’t even have to tell me your name if you don’t want to,” Checkers says, lifting the box to eye-level in a final attempt to convince him. “I’ll even share this with you, since you’re obviously hungry.”
Yoshimoto feels like the man has just read his mind, but his interest is finally piqued beyond all conscious inhibitions. He is hungry, after all! And whatever is inside that box sure seems worth the trouble.
∞•∞•∞•∞•∞
Before his usually cautious mind can even catch up, Yoshimoto finds himself already lounging on a bench beside the man he has just met, sharing the contents of the take-out box of cake between themselves.
“Un! This is seriously delicious!” he exclaims without abandon, stuffing the last bite of the strawberry chocolate roll into his mouth. He chews slowly as he levels his gaze with the man who quickly turns his eyes down to the last slice of cake in the box.
“Ah! Take this then.” The man lifts the box and holds it out to him.
Not one to say no to food generously and willingly offered, Yoshimoto grins and takes the box, closing its lid gingerly before stuffing it into his bag, while a gaudy-sounding “Thank you!” rumbles deep in his throat.
Strange that he has rather easily warmed up to the man within a mere half-hour.
Stranger still that he feels quite fine with how things are turning out, too—
“You do look like you’ll eat anything,” the man chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning heavier on the bench.
“I’ll eat anything that’s free. That’s for sure,” he quips, propping an elbow on top of the bench and cupping his face in his hand to better fix his eyes on the other man.
“I wish Kei-kun would have even just a little of your enthusiasm.”
Yoshimoto hears the sigh in his companion’s voice and feels a taunting smile forming on his lips. This isn’t the first time the name has slipped into their conversation. And even though he has yet to figure out what the man is all about beyond the checkered shirt and the ready smile, he feels confident he can tell this much—
“Did your lover ditch you or something?”
The man shakes his head and shifts uncomfortably on the bench, “Ah, it’s nothing like that!”
Unbidden warmth floods Yoshimoto’s heart at the sight of the grown man fidgeting almost like an embarrassed girl beside him. He almost loses his cool and suddenly feels the urge to move away from the startlingly consuming space. He clears his throat and straightens himself on his side of the bench, his eyes focusing on the farthest possible point in front of him.
“Although, I do sometimes fear he just might disappear one day without telling me.”
The hint of uncertainty in the man’s voice makes Yoshimoto turn his gaze back to him curiously. The look of embarrassment from just a while ago has already been overshadowed by the doubt that’s apparently consuming what’s left of the man’s optimism.
“Do tell,” he finds himself mumbling almost tenderly, while inwardly cringing at his sudden, uncharacteristic show of concern for a stranger.
Then again, he isn’t much of a stranger anymore if Yoshimoto already knows the man is the same age as he is, a doctor at some advanced medical center (though, he still has his doubts about this one), and is currently dating another man.
Oh, and he also has this aura about him that’s deceptively childlike. An amusing contrast to the sharp and intelligent look his eyes took on when he was casually advising Yoshimoto on diet and posture a while ago.
It is this gap between a laid-back guy and a professional man and how smoothly Checkers can shift from one to the other that has so engrossed Yoshimoto’s mind that he actually almost forgot about the messed up family he’s working on beyond the confines of this suddenly warm and homey park bench.
“You know, I’d really rather not,” the man chortles, looking absurdly boyish with a playful smile hanging at one corner of his lips. “I probably shouldn’t be talking to a stalker, in the first place.”
A strange sound escapes Yoshimoto’s throat. It seems like he’s laughing, but only for the sake of it. Sans any hidden threat, nor evil plot forming in his head.
“Really? You’re realizing that just now, huh?”
He can hardly remember the last time he’s actually felt this kind of delight. Pure and unstained by the evil that’s residing within him.
Checkers joins him in his laughter soon enough, their mirthful chuckles tearing through the rest of the wall that’s been gradually crumbling between them since they sat down together.
“Seriously, though, thanks for keeping me company, Stalker-san,” the grinning man holds out a hand to him that he willingly grips and shakes.
“My pleasure, Checkers-san.”
The man looks down at his shirt and breathes out an, “Oh!” before chuckling again. “I should be going back to the hospital soon.” Their hands parted and a bitter smile almost instantly overshadows the man’s face. “I only took this time off to see Kei-kun...”
Yoshimoto raises an eyebrow and asks, “Were you upset?’
“A little. But I should really be used to it by now.”
“Hm...” He crosses his arms over his chest, his heart almost melting at the look of sadness in the other man’s eyes, his interest for this case building so fast, he’s already decided on an answer, long before his mind can even catch up and form the question.
“Relationships can’t all be perfect, ne?” the man keeps saying in a solitary bid to convince himself.
Yoshimoto’s brows furrow in uncontained curiosity, his heartbeat accelerating with a rapidly mounting anticipation, laced with a hint of fury. “Is this Kei-kun treating you well?”
“Well, we all have our flaws.” The man’s voice is a mere mumble, lacking neither conviction nor good humor. His eyes are sightlessly focused into space, perhaps searching for the answers he already knows he can never find. “It’s just that, I wish I knew more about him, you know.”
A snigger passes through Yoshimoto’s lips, heralding a mocking retort that’s so-comfortably him. “If you met him the same way we did, I doubt it’s ever going to be any better.”
“Hey, I don’t make a habit of picking up strangers in the park!” the man quips with quasi-scorn, the unmistakable grin at the tip of his lips instantly giving him away.
“Only those who spy on boys, have a big appetite, and equally sloping shoulders?” Yoshimoto keeps taunting, loving the way he’s finally settling back into the character he knows best.
“Those are rather charming points, yeah,” the man chortles, crossing his arms and leaning comfortably into the bench once again. “But you’re an interesting guy, Stalker-san. I bet not much different from Kei-kun.” He turns an impish glance at Yoshimoto and adds, “And I did want to give that boy some time away from you.”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” he smirks, looking as deeply into those eyes as he dares.
“I’m sure,” the man shots back, steadily holding the penetrating gaze, his warm breath filling the space between them.
Yoshimoto’s skin tingles with the unexpected sensation. Once again, he feels the need to move away and swiftly turns his head to the other side where his gaze lands easily on a group of kids who have just gathered around the playground set a mere half-a-dozen steps away from their bench. A rather nostalgic sight that surprisingly cuts through his heart, making him feel warm... Almost at peace and human.
“Ah, I guess I’ll be going now, then.”
Yoshimoto turns his attention back to the man just in time to see him slap his hands to his lap before jumping enthusiastically to his feet.
“Wait, you’re letting me go just like that?” he exclaims in mock surprise, widening his eyes and mouth exaggeratedly.
The man merely smiles at him and says, “Your eyes don’t really hide much. You are an evil man, Stalker-san. But you’re not completely heartless.”
A bemused smile stretches his lips. Anyone who can say such rude things with a wide, unfaltering smile, has got to be harboring a few demons of his own.
But if this man thinks he’s got Kouya Yoshimoto all figured out just like that, he’ll have to think again. “Are you not worried I might kill that boy?”
“You care about that boy. The expressions on your face while you were watching him tell as much.”
He almost loses himself in the jeering laughter building up in his throat. “You think?”
The man’s smile suddenly melts into a frown that is both mocking and threatening, it almost makes Yoshimoto’s heart soar ten different ways. “Though, if you’d been leering,” he says, “it’d been a totally different matter, and I’d probably be beating you up myself.”
A secret smile, warm and deeply ingrained in Yoshimoto’s heart instantly rises to his lips. “Shige-chan is a good kid.”
“I know,” the man says, his smile warm and openly directed at him.
∞•∞•∞•∞•∞
A couple of months later, Kouya Yoshimoto finds himself crouching behind another bush, with his trusty phone poised at eye level before him, watching over his new subjects.
On a bench not much far from him is Checkers, now wearing a long-sleeved knitted sweater with tribal patterns and carrying on a seemingly one-sided conversation with himself. Beside him is another man, Kei-kun no doubt, looking as detached, stiff and expressionless as a robot.
No, he bets a robot has a wider range of motions, and even knows more expressions than this man.
Kei-kun is a short, deceptively unassuming guy, bespectacled and—decked in a red sweater over a white polo and a tie, with earphones stuck to his ears—looks more like a college student than a full-grown adult working for a Tokyo-based security firm.
It’s amazing how much one can find out about a person with the barest of efforts these days—
Kei Enomoto, Outcast employee. Tokyo Total Security.
Takumi Hatano, General Practitioner. Teito University Hospital.
Introduced by a mutual acquaintance, Junko Aoto.
Dating for almost six months now.
Still going nowhere fast...
He knows he’s so much better off messing up another family right now than crouching here and watching over this couple of dysfunctional lovers. But ever since he met Hatano in the park on that awkwardly remarkable afternoon, he has never been able to get the look of sadness he saw in those eyes out of his mind.
And this Kei-kun just has to turn out to be the absurdly amusing character he has always hoped he would be.
The guy does have the kind of aura about him that Yoshimoto recognizes almost instantly. Like that of a man living a double life full of secrets and demons and all else in-between.
He would never have been able to keep himself away, even if he wanted to—
The bespectacled man suddenly turns his head to his direction, staring fixedly at him without flinching a muscle on his rigid face.
Yoshimoto looks over the top of his phone and meets the man’s gaze head on, his heartbeat rapidly going wild at the unspoken challenge passing through those watchful and unblinking eyes.
“Ii ne...” he croons.
~1992*4##111~
***I just realized I haven’t written anything at all to support my third favorite pair in the fandom. So here’s me showing some Sakuraiba love! [though, the very subtle Yama just has to sneak in at the end, ne? xD] ♥