#I think he'd risk that to get to Aruto to stop him from getting help

[firebirdsdaughter]

Random Writing Tidbit Still Tired…

… ‘Someone should write something about Amatsu threatening Fuwa to get to Aruto,’ I, a fanfiction writer, say, ‘I really wish someone would write that.’

Well…

I’m just love this concept, okay?

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“One more thing.”

With a small groan, Aruto came to a stop, then turned to face Amatsu, forcing a polite smile on to his face. “… Yes?” He asked, doing his best to keep his voice as level as he could. “What is it?”

“Just one,” Amatsu held up his thumb and index finger so that they were practically touching, “Small rule. No asking Vulcan for help this time.”

Aruto sighed, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Or what?” He snapped sarcastically, irritation slipping into his tone, “You’ll ruin my company’s reputation?”

A horrid chuckle. “Of course not. You’re handling that just fine yourself,” Gai informed him cheerfully. “No…” Thouser crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair with one of those toothpaste commercial grins, “I’ll ruin him.”

Aruto froze.

Beside him, he felt Izu doing the same, her eyes actually widening. It felt like the air had just sucked out of the room, his irritation evaporating and being replaced by shock and horror. “… What.” He croaked, struggling to breathe.

“I keep close tabs on people I associate with. Background checks, research, the works. AIMS has been in my pocket from the beginning.” Gai tilted his head, clearly enjoying Aruto’s reaction. “I know everything there is to know about Fuwa Isamu. You think your situation is bad now?” Gai leaned sharply forward again, propping his elbows on his desk and linking his hands together. “I could take Vulcan’s life apart brick by brick until he is nothing,” Aruto’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as Thouser continued in the same casual tone, “Disciplinary actions that I swept under the rug, blatant disregard for the letter of the law…” The PR grin began to edge into a smug smirk. “I could have him in prison or worse with a mere snap of my fingers.”

Aruto was trembling with anger now, but he still couldn’t find his voice—it was Izu who replied. “If your claims are true,” She said, but even her usually calm voice was shaking slightly, “That would require admitting your own crimes.”

Another soft, cruel laugh. “If you’d prefer,” Thouser answered snidely, “I’d be more than happy to go another direction. When I say I know everything, I mean it.” He rose purposefully, pacing slowly around the desk toward them. “I know his psychological history, his deepest secrets, and his worst nightmares.” Amatsu came to a stop right in front of Aruto, not even trying to mask the fiendish delight on his face as Zero-One stared at him in horror. He leaned forward, so close Aruto would swear he could feel the other man’s breath. “I know exactly how to break him, make him question his own sanity until he puts a gun to his own head.”

Aruto’s nails were cutting into his palms, and it was a struggle to find air and unhinge his jaw to speak. “Leave Fuwa out of this.”

His voice broke partway through, and Amatsu grinned broadly, with not a shred of even false pleasantness. “No,” He hissed, “You leave him out of this.” Pulling away from Aruto’s face, he turned and walked back to his desk. “If I get so much as a hint that you’re running to him for help again…” He sat gracefully back in his chair as if it were a throne, “I will have his head on a platter so fast you won’t even get a chance to blink.”

Aruto glared at him for a moment longer, shoulders shaking, practically snarling. Finally, he couldn’t bear looking at Amatsu’s smug face any longer, and spun around, rushing for the door.

“Oh, and if you decide to try anything funny in some harebrained attempt to ‘outsmart’ me?” Thouser drawled as his hand closed around the door knob, and despite every fibre of his being screaming not to listen, Aruto found himself stopping again, frozen at the door. Amatsu’s tone was slipping back into faux affability, and he could practically hear that disgusting, television-perfect grin coming back. “I am fully prepared to go old school. After all…” Gai’s tone was almost as casual as if he was making polite conversation, but Aruto could hear the edge of steel in it, sharp as a knife, “… AIMS is a dangerous job. Accidents happen all the time.” The man’s voice dropped so low, Aruto almost didn’t hear the last part. “… Remember that, Hiden.”

Aruto didn’t wait to hear more, instead slamming the door open and sprinting out of the room. Shoving past multiple ZAIA employees in his race to get away, he didn’t bother to look if Izu was behind him, or if anyone else was following. He didn’t stop until he was several blocks away, ducking into an alley to sag against the wall, gasping for breath. He felt sick. It was like there was something stabbing him in the chest, wedged between his ribs, cutting deeper with each inhale.

His phone buzzed, and he practically jumped out of his skin, searching frantically for it—only for his blood to run cold again when he saw who it was. Fuwa’s name shone on the screen, next to a little picture of a wolf he’d pulled of the internet because it looked particularly angry. The phone was shaking violently in his hands as he struggled to calm his breathing. Faintly, he heard Izu come up beside him, though it sounded like she was very far away.

AIMS is a dangerous job. Accidents happen all the time. Remember that, Hiden.

Amatsu’s voice rang loudly in his head like a terrible gong, bouncing off his skull. Biting his lip so hard he tasted blood in his mouth, he felt tears stinging his eyes—mercifully, Izu was silent, just standing there, watching him. He stared at the name on the screen for a moment longer, fighting the urge to cry and failing, the tears overflowing, dripping down his cheeks.

Then, slowly, he raised a trembling hand, and rejected the call.

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Also… Might like making Aruto cry. Bc I’m an angst monster and Fumiya is baby.