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Miwaku no Zakuro	By : Tcharlatan Category: > Kyo/Kaoru Views: 2860 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction. I do not personally know any of the members of Dir en grey, X Japan, or KISAKI, and do not profit from this work.

Chapter List
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‘Men, when they receive good from whence they expect evil, feel the more indebted to their benefactor.’ ~Niccolo Machiavelli

Long legs trudged down familiar streets, their owner’s elegantly androgynous face downturned with strife. Red and black hair was cropped short and teased into soft spikes in the back, but long around his face, parted to obscure the left side. From behind the scarlet veil, dark grey eyes navigated absently over gaping cracks in the sidewalk and around homeless people stretched out under any available awnings for the night, dismissing the obstacles under the weight of their own troubles. The young man’s options had been very explicitly laid out for him, and he knew what he had to do, but he hated it. If only his luck had held out just a little longer. If only his winning streak had stretched just a little further. If only the bastard he owed such a monumental debt to would just give him a little more time to win his money back. If only…
‘It’s a hell of a mess I’ve gotten myself into this time…’
He stopped in front of the ill-maintained apartment building he called home, and sneered halfheartedly at the large stone holding the front door ajar. In his mind, he could easily imagine his roommate’s familiar grumble, haughty but good-natured: “Why bother having a security door in the entrance if it’s always propped open?” He kicked the rock aside and passed through the dimly-lit entry hall to a narrow staircase, mounting rickety steps to the second story hallway. Jamming his key in the lock of the second door to the left, he wrenched it to one side until the stubborn mechanism gave way and granted him access to his home.
The difference between his apartment and the building it was in could be a bit jarring, even after four years living there. Though small, it was well-lit and kept immaculately clean. Every hole, crack, and blemish in the walls was covered with a framed photo, a poster, or a hanging scroll or tapestry. Furniture was carefully arranged to afford the best possible use of limited space, stains and patched holes in the old upholstery hidden under neatly-draped throw blankets. Books, CDs, and anime figurines were displayed on shelves mounted along the walls, and the sill under the only window was home to a collection of lovingly-tended potted cacti. He felt more at home in this cheap little apartment than he ever had anywhere else. Kicking off heavy boots, the young man stepped inside and shut the door behind him. The stale, dusty air of the hall faded away in the wake of the warm, herbal smell of cooking food.
A curious face peeked around the corner from the kitchen, unruly blonde hair with black roots a mess of soft, haphazard spikes falling around full cheeks. Burnt-gold eyes brightened on seeing the newcomer, and the shorter man smiled. “Oh, Kisaki, it’s you. You’re home early; I thought we were being robbed or something!”
Kisaki forced himself to smile at his roommate. “Hey, Kyo. The cards just weren’t falling in my favor tonight, so I called it quits early.”
Kyo seemed pleased. He had never approved of his roommate’s gambling habits, so he was always happy when the younger man exercised restraint in the face of a losing streak. He disappeared back into the kitchen as he called out, “That’s too bad. Maybe some dinner will cheer you up? I got a lot of tips tonight, so I splurged a little and got us some good beef for gyuudon!”
Kisaki winced a little. His roommate – a month his senior and his best friend since they were teenagers – had always taken such good care of him. Kyo was the one responsible for the tiny apartment being as clean and comfortable as it was, always cooked enough for both of them in spite of Kisaki’s odd hours, and was always ready with a smile when the younger man had a bad day. He was distrustful of people in general and tended to be somewhat antisocial, leading many who knew him to think he was cold and maybe even a little strange in the head, but once he warmed up to someone, Kyo deeply cherished the small handful of true friends he had. He was a distinctly different person in their company; when they were alone, Kisaki only ever saw the sweetness and compassion lying very close to his roommate’s bones.
In another time, another place, they might even have been lovers. Kisaki knew the blonde had harbored feelings for him in the past, and if he weren’t so thoroughly consumed by his own addictions, he might have reciprocated them. They could have been happy together, if only…
But there was nothing for it now.
‘I don’t deserve you, Kyo… I’ve never deserved your friendship, and now-… I’m so sorry for what I’m about to do to you… I’m so sorry…’ He sighed. “Thanks, Kyo, that… that sounds great.”
“It’s just about done, why don’t you grab some bowls and help me put it together?”
The younger man did as he was bid and filled two bowls with the waiting rice, handing them one by one for Kyo to top with the beef and onions that had been simmering on the stove. While the blonde filled two smaller bowls with miso soup from another pot, Kisaki cracked eggs over both of the gyuudon dishes and carried them to the coffee table that also served as their dining table. Kyo followed with soup and utensils, settling onto a cushion on the floor while his taller roommate sat on the couch.
Kisaki steeled himself, forcing himself to speak casually as he stared at his meal, “So… after dinner, do you… do you want to go out?”
“Hmm?” Kyo mumbled around a mouthful of food.
The redhead couldn’t bring himself to look at his friend as he continued, “I’m supposed to hang out with some… friends later and they… they wanted to meet you.”
Kyo swallowed and cocked his head with a curious smile. “It’s kind of late, but I don’t have work tomorrow and I guess we haven’t gone out together in a while, so… why not?”
Kisaki nodded and a heavy silence fell between them as they ate. Kyo eyed his roommate worriedly, his troubled gaze going completely unnoticed as the younger man’s dark grey stare remained fixed on his meal. Kisaki frequently got himself into little funks of depression, usually after a bout of poor luck at the gambling parlor, but it was rare that one would be so pervasive. The blonde guessed that his friend’s losing streak must have been worse than he originally thought, and sighed quietly to himself.
‘Guess I’ll be paying all of rent this month. Again. No more splurging on food, then.’
When they finished eating, Kyo moved to collect their dishes, but Kisaki interrupted him with one hand. “I’ll take care of these. You should go find something to wear.”
Kyo paused for a moment, surprised; Kisaki never did dishes. Looking down at himself, taking in his loose-fitting band tee-shirt and jeans, he frowned a little. “What’s wrong with this? Did I get food on myself?”
The younger man looked uncomfortable as he carried their bowls to the kitchen. “Just, you know… it’s too… casual. Dress like you would for a club or… or for your work. Something fun!”
Kyo watched his roommate disappear into the kitchen and shrugged, heading obediently to his room. Between the two of them, Kisaki was the hopeless fashion victim, but he could put together a decent outfit when the need struck him. He had to, if he wanted to make any money; nobody wanted to watch a dancer in plain street clothes, and if no one was watching, no one was tipping. He just didn’t generally like to dress up in his down time.
With a sigh, he stripped and pulled on a pair of fitted black pinstripe overalls with a massive golden dragon embroidered up the side. He wore no shirt underneath it, showing off the smattering of tattoos decorating his wrist and upper arms. He couldn’t afford as many as he wanted, but the ones he had – a butterfly on one arm, a dragon on the other, the crown of the Russian empire on a wrist, and Russian writing down the backs of his fingers on one hand – were excellent quality, and he was terribly proud of them. Wide, black leather cuffs snapped around both of his wrists over a couple of simple chain bracelets, and a haphazard multitude of necklaces adorned his neck.
He was never entirely sure about this outfit, no matter how many times Kisaki told him how much he liked it. The suspender straps over his bare shoulders made him feel too young, somehow… innocent. It would have to do, though; he hadn’t laundered any of his other work clothes yet this week. Making a face at himself in the mirror, he ran a hand through his hair and made his way back to the living room where his roommate was waiting. The taller man was staring at his watch, face taut with anxiety.
“This okay?” Kyo asked his friend, slipping his feet into heavy black boots and kneeling to tie them. “Nothing else is clean.”
Head bowed, he missed Kisaki’s pained stare, and how the younger man bit his lower lip before answering, “Yeah, that… that’s great, Kyo.”
They left the apartment and began to walk towards the outer edge of downtown. The more time that went by – the longer the uncomfortable silence stretched between them – the more Kyo began to worry about Kisaki. The taller man was trudging along as if to his execution, shoulders slumped unhappily, and his eyes were unusually distant. Kyo disliked seeing his friend so unhappy, and hoped he would cheer up when they got to wherever they were going.
“So… umm… how was work?” the blonde ventured, rubbing his bare arms against a chill brought on by crisp autumn winds.
“Huh?” Kisaki blinked out of his stupor and looked down at his older friend.
“Work… how was it, today?”
“Oh… it was alright, I guess. Same as always. You?”
“Pretty good, actually. There was a big party that came in towards the end of the night and they tipped really well. We had the good DJ tonight, too, so the music was actually decent.”
“That’s… that’s great.” Kisaki looked back down again, staring at the sidewalk as it passed beneath him. “…Hey, Kyo?”
Kyo deflated a little. His friend’s voice was still so despondent. “Yeah?”
“Do you ever want… something more out of life? To be more than just a dancer in some seedy little club?”
“Well… sure, someday. It’s an okay job for now, but I’m not going to do it forever.”
“But do you have any plans? Like going back to school or… whatever…”
Kyo chuckled at that. “Not really; you know I’ve never been one for studying or getting up early for class. Last year, I thought I’d be getting married by now, but since Takara left me… I guess for now I’m just going to live life as it comes to me until I figure out what I’m going to do with myself.”
Kisaki nodded and Kyo just watched his roommate curiously. What odd questions to ask all of a sudden… He didn’t press the conversation any further, brought down into his own funk by the memory of his ex-fiancée. Hopelessly in love, he’d saved every spare yen he made for a solid year to buy his girlfriend a ring, planning out his proposal down to the last detail. But when he’d popped the question, she’d simply given him a sympathetic little smile and explained to him that she’d only been with him out of convenience, and to get close to one of Kyo’s friends who was notorious for wanting what those around him possessed. It had worked: they’d been sleeping around behind his back for months before he proposed. Before her, he’d considered himself essentially pansexual, but their breakup had put him off of women for the time being, preferring the more straight-forward desires of a small handful male partners that came and went without pretense or games.
Almost half an hour later, the blonde looked up from his musing and was a bit disappointed to find himself standing in front of a familiar building. Small but bustling, its stone façade shining bright with garish neon lights, people in all manner of dress (and, in some cases, undress) milling around out front smoking, and the music pouring out from the open doors was powerful and exhilarating. The shorter man balked a bit, cringing – Zakuro was a somewhat shady club, and a favorite hangout for local criminals – but followed his roommate dutifully through the front doors. It wasn’t his scene, but if this was what it took to cheer Kisaki up, he could set aside his discomfort for the evening.
As they approached the bar, Kyo eyed his surroundings warily. The open part of the floor was a swirling cacophony of smoke and flashing rainbow lights over a writhing mass of drunken, wanton dancers. The air was oppressive, hot and thick with the smell of stale sweat and cheap beer. As they passed a booth, he made a face at the trio of young women within, shamelessly engaged in thoroughly carnal activities for anyone to see. He stopped when he noticed his friend was walking past the bar, towards a door tucked into the corner with a mountain of a man standing watch in front of it.
Kyo grabbed the younger man’s arm with one hand. “Saki, wait.”
“What?” Kisaki asked, avoiding the blonde’s questioning stare.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to go back there, isn’t that where the fucking mafia hangs out?”
“It’s just a… a private room, you know? For… parties, and stuff. That’s where my friends are waiting for us.”
“Are you sure? Look at the guy standing in front of the door! He’s huge, he looks like a bouncer or something.”
“It’s alright, I promise.” Kisaki felt a little queasy as he forced himself to smile. “Don’t you trust me?
Kyo cocked his head at the suspicious door with its guard, then sighed and nodded. “…Of course I do. Lead on, then.”
Kisaki winced at the honest faith in his friend’s voice. Steeling himself, he led his roommate up to the bulky man in the corner. The guard glanced down at the pair coldly before opening the door and beckoning them through. They walked into the dimly-lit hallway and as the door closed behind them, Kyo could only wonder why his roommate looked like he was heading towards a funeral.
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Miwaku no Zakuro