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dangerouscommiesubversive · 4 years ago

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Phone Home

Fandoms: Ultraman Orb, Kamen Rider Blade

Summary: Improbably, no matter how far he travels, Gai keeps running into the same man.

Notes: You can also read this on AO3.

They meet for the first time in Marrakech, in a coffee shop.

It’s not as if Gai’s looking for company. It’s just that he’s on the phone with Naomi, promising to bring her back a souvenir when he’s next in Japan, and when he looks up he realizes that someone else in the room understands the language he’s speaking. Another man, shaggy-haired and slightly weatherbeaten, caught in the act of sitting down at a corner table when he heard a semi-familiar voice.

Gai finishes his call, and the other man nods, and they sit down at the corner table together with the unspoken camaraderie of people finding something in common far from home.

The coffee is very good, so it takes some time before either one of them speaks, and then it’s the other man first. “You seem like someone who does a lot of traveling.”

Gai nods and raises his coffee cup in acknowledgment. “Fair enough, I was in France yesterday. So do you.”

“Switzerland before here.”

“We must have just missed each other, I’m surprised that we weren’t on the same flight.” Not that Gai takes airplanes, but it’s a fiction he tries to maintain.

The other man smiles, very briefly. “We wouldn’t have been. I walked here.”

“That’s…a long walk.”

A shrug. “I’ve had longer. Was it a good flight?”

“Short, mostly. Although I don’t mind flying.”

They don’t exchange names, or any kind of contact information, but they talk about their travels, and before they part ways they shake hands and Gai knows, with abrupt certainty, that his conversation partner isn’t human, although what he is doesn’t make itself clear. At the door of the coffee shop Gai turns left, planning to ask for directions to the location where there’s been rumored kaiju activity. The other man turns right, and walks down the street until he’s out of sight.

The second time they meet is in Porto Velho, in Brazil. This time it’s in a bar, not a coffee shop, and Gai’s the one to spot his friend from Marrakech first, sitting in a corner by himself again with a bottle of indifferent beer next to his hand. He’s staring into space, silent, but when Gai sits down across from him he nods and says, “This is a little unexpected.”

“That’s what I was going to say. Did you walk here as well?”

The smile flashes across his face and then it’s gone. “Part of the way. I took a boat for some of it. I don’t like to fly.”

“That’s a pity, it’s an efficient way to travel.”

“I like having the extra time to think. And it gives me a chance to take photographs.”

“Do you take many?”

“Thousands. I go through one or two memory cards a month.”

Gai nods, signals for an indifferent beer of his own, and shrugs his coat off onto the back of his chair. “You’re not saving them?”

“I send them to a friend. He can’t send them back, though, I haven’t had a mailing address in years.”

“Do you get to look at the pictures when you see him?”

“I don’t.”

“Look at the pictures?”

“See him.”

The long story behind those two words is something Gai might ask about, if he were talking to anyone else, but his friend doesn’t seem amenable to further questions.

They talk for an hour, over several more bottles of indifferent beer, and as before they part ways at the door without exchanging names.

Third time is the charm, and their third meeting is the most improbable yet, taking place as it does in a meadow in Tasmania. Gai is sitting on a tree stump, playing his harmonica and trying to decide which part of his packed lunch to eat first, when a shadow falls over him, and when he looks up his friend from Marrakech and Porto Velho says, “Somehow I knew it was you.”

He’s looking just as weatherbeaten as always. Fortunately it’s a big tree stump; Gai moves over and gestures to the newly-opened spot. “Have a seat.”

His friend sits down, not quite turned towards him, and they lean against each other’s shoulders very naturally, as if they’ve known each other for years. Which they have, Gai realizes, with some surprise—that first encounter was three years ago almost to the day. His friend stares off into the distance for a long time before speaking again. “I saw a thylacine here, about seven years ago. Although it didn’t stay still long enough for me to take a picture of it.”

“That’s a shame.”

“I’m used to it. Animals don’t like me.”

This sounds like the kind of thing people just say, but Gai actually listens for a moment, and realizes that there are fewer insects nearby than there were before, and that he hears none of the rustling and soft movement that usually signals living things in the vicinity. “That’s a pity. I’ve always enjoyed listening to them.”

Another long silence before, slowly, “You aren’t human, are you? I’m not just imagining things?”

Gai grins up at the sky. “No more than you are, friend. What planet are you from?”

“This one.” His friend leans forward to drag his fingers through the grass. “I’m assuming we don’t have to fight, you seem friendly enough. How long have you been on Earth?”

“A few thousand years. You?”

“Thirty-nine years next birthday.” Gai sees the edges of the wry smile, when he turns. “And I’ll be here until the planet’s gone, I suppose.”

Gai frowns. “You don’t want to travel anywhere off-world?”

“I can’t. Wouldn’t be safe.”

“For you?”

“For the world.”

“Sounds like there’s a story behind that.”

The wry smile becomes more genuine as his friend turns to look at him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Gai nods. “Sounds fair enough.”

It takes a couple of hours to get through both of them. By the time they’re finished, the sun is starting to set, and both of the lunches they brought are long-eaten.

“I should get moving,” his friend says, finally. “I try not to stay in one place for too long.” Beat. “You wouldn’t happen to be going back to Japan any time soon, would you?”

Gai hadn’t been planning on it, but it’s been a while since he saw Naomi, and so it’s the easiest thing in the world to say, “In a few days, actually. Why?”

“I couldn’t ask you to deliver something for me, could you? To my friend?”

“Of course.”

His friend pulls a padded envelope out of his jacket, already sealed and addressed neatly but unstamped. “I was going to send it in town, but I always worry about things getting lost in the mail. Better to give it to someone I can trust.”

Gai tucks the envelope into his own coat pocket. “It’ll get there safely, I promise.” He pauses. “I suppose at this point we ought to introduce ourselves, given that we might run into each other again. Kurenai Gai.”

His friend’s handshake is firm and warm, without even a hint of any terrible fate—although Gai knows well enough that terrible fates are rarely so easy to spot. “Kenzaki Kazuma.”

“Any message I can pass on? With the letter?”

Juggler’s waiting at the local pub when Gai gets back into town, an amused look on his face as Gai sits down across from him. “I was going to find you earlier, but you already had company. Cheating on me?”

Gai rolls his eyes. “Not at all. Just a friend of mine.”

“Didn’t seem human.”

“He isn’t.” A thought occurs to him. “I’m assuming you just got here.”

“Of course.”

“You weren’t planning on going to see Naomi after this, were you?”

Juggler eyes him suspiciously. “It’s unwholesome how well you can read me. Why?”

“Well, I’ve got something that needs to go to Japan, but there’s still some kaiju activity near here that I need to look into.”

“You’ll owe me a favor, you know.”

Gai passes the envelope across the table. “Gladly.”

Juggler reads the address and frowns. “This isn’t for Naomi.”

“No, it’s something my friend asked me to deliver.”

“You’re passing off a promise to me? Amazing.”

“I’m giving it to someone I can trust.”

There’s an awkward silence in which Juggler turns redder and redder and then finally takes a sip of scotch and says, “I hate when you do that.”

Gai grins at him. “Do what?”

“Act charming at me.” The envelope goes into Juggler’s suit jacket. “I’ll get it there tomorrow.” Another sip of scotch. “Anything else you need me to deliver?”

“Well, there’s a message to go with that.”

Naomi stares at the envelope in her hands, eyebrows drawing down, and then looks up at Juggler and says, “You’re asking me for a favor?”

Juggler stares fixedly into the distance for a few seconds before he replies. “I wanted to pass it on to someone I could trust.”

The way she blushes makes the statement entirely worth it. “Well. Well, I. Ok. I’ll get it there, I’m actually going in that direction later today, working on a story with Jetta. Who am I looking for? Do I need to tell them anything?”

“Good afternoon, I’m looking for Aikawa Hajime? I was told he…lives here? Works here? Something?”

The woman at the counter, only a year or so older than Naomi, peers at her suspiciously and says, “Why are you looking for Hajime?”

Naomi shifts nervously. “I, uh. Have a letter for him, actually. From a friend.”

More suspicious peering, and then the woman looks more closely at the envelope in Naomi’s hand and her eyes go wide. “All right, stay right here and I’ll get him.” She turns to go, and then stops. “Did you…see the friend yourself? Is he in Japan?”

Naomi shakes her head. “He ran into my…my boyfriend. In Australia. I’m just the courier.”

A short nod, and a disappointed look. “That makes sense. I’ll go get Hajime.”

Aikawa Hajime, when he follows the woman out from the back of the restaurant, looks worn and sad, but when he sees Naomi he smiles nonetheless, and they shake hands. “Amane said you asked for me?”

“Yes, um.” Naomi holds out the envelope. “I’m delivering a letter.”

He says, “Thank you,” and takes it from her with what seems like unusual reverence for a plain brown padded envelope. “Did you see him yourself? Did he look well?”

“I didn’t see him, but my boyfriend did.” It’s easier to call Gai that this time. “Apparently they’ve run into each other a few times, he travels a lot. Gai says he’s a friend.”

“That’s good.” Hajime turns the letter over and over in his hands. “Thank you for bringing this to me.”

“Of course. Oh, there’s a message to go with it.”

“Hm?”

“He says he misses you.” The look on Hajime’s face makes Naomi unsure of whether she’s happy to have passed this along or whether she regrets it. She very nearly apologizes—but then, fortunately, her coat pocket rustles, and she remembers the other part of the message. The folded slip of paper Juggler gave her is looking a little battered, but Hajime takes it from her like it’s a precious jewel, hands shaking. “And that he’s finally got a working phone and you should give him a call.”

#kurenai gai #kenzaki kazuma #jugglus juggler #yumeno naomi #kurihara amane #i mean amane's only there for a second but i love her so she gets tagged #fanfiction #this wasn't a prompt it just happened #as stories sometimes do #aikawa hajime

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