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sasuhinasno1fan · 4 years ago

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Just because we love you, we want to protect you - Adrien AUGreste Day 27

I saw this prompt, and I had to. I meant to add the words ‘just because’ a few more times but this is how it worked, so enjoy @adrienaugust Just Because

Adrien waited in the integration room. Well, it was more of a conference room but he felt like he’d been integrated since he arrived. Early that morning, he’d gone to the bank. He’s just moved back from London, gone from the place he called home for years after the falling out with his father and his aunt taking him because it was safer for him away from his father. He’d broken up with 3 of the greatest people he’d ever dated – never mind that it had been his first relationship – and had fallen out of contact with his friends.

But he was back now and he hoped he could at the very least repair his friendships. His aunt had sent him a hefty amount of money to help him with rent until he got his first pay check but because his bank was rather old school, they asked him to come down so he could sign off on appearance into his account. He’d been waiting in line, working on his checklist of things to do for the day when men in masks and with guns appeared, ordering people to get to the ground. It would seem that modelling had helped him think in high pressure situations as he focused on helping other hostages keep calm. His talking caught their attention and the leader of the group started to head over, ready to make an example of him. But then he stopped and stared at him, getting a good look, before his eyes flashed in recognition and he looked scared. He ordered his crew to stop, that they had to leave. The police had just started to mobilize just outside so the whole group had been caught and the hostages safely removed. They questioned everyone and when he mentioned how the thieves reacted to him, they asked him to come in.

He had his lawyer waiting for his cue to show up if need be, but they hadn’t taken his phone, they’d been very pleasant in their questions and so far, it seemed like routine questions. Except he could tell it wasn’t. there was something they were waiting for him to say, but he didn’t know what it was.

“Adrien Agreste, as I live and breathe.” He looked up and felt his eyes widen at the person standing in the doorway.

“Alix!” Alix Kubdel, one of his classmates from lycée, before he left for London, was much different. Her once pink hair was now red with black tips and the many piercings, she talked about wanting to get in class adorned her face. With the short sleeves of her police uniform, he saw she had a tattoo of a bunny with an umbrella on her wrist.

“Come here you!” she said, walking in, pulling up from his chair and squeezing him into a tight hug. She might still be shorter than him, but she was still as strong. “When did you get back from London?”

“Not that long ago actually. I’m finally moving back. I was one of the hostages…”

“from the bank robbery, yeah. I heard. Best way to start out here again huh?”

“Yeah. It was really weird and now I’m stuck here with them asking me questions I don’t know the answers to.”

Alix looked over her shoulder and closed the door before standing closer to Adrien. “Ok, listen. I shouldn’t tell you this but you should at least know. The thieves said they left cause they saw you.”

“Me? You’re not telling me my dad is still that terrifying.”

“Not enough to scare thieves, but that’s not it. They kept saying you were on the top of the list.”

Adrien felt even more confused. “What list?”

“There’s this huge crime syndicate group called the Miracular. Know to every criminal and if you want to live, you don’t get on their bad side. They have a ‘No Harm’ list and I guess you were on it.”

No Harm list? Miracular? Why did…it couldn’t be.

“Um, hey. What about Marinette, Luka and Kagami? What are they up to?”

A teasing smile came to Alix’s lips. “I see someone still holds a flame for them. well, you should know that even after you left, they never broke up. Created a fashion house called the Black Cat too.” Black cats were his favourite animal. “Mari does the fashion, Luka talks to the people and Kagami deals with the business. If you still feel the same, I could give you their numbers.”

Did he still feel the same? Of course, he did. No other relationship held a candle to them. first, he liked Marinette. After a misunderstanding they became friends and he was drawn to her bright energy, kind smile and unwillingness to give up. But there were times where she seemed so awkward around him that he thought she didn’t like him. Then he met Kagami, who was quiet and withdrawn but when brought out of her shell, was passionate and unyielding. She was the one who made him aware that Marinette was actually nervous around him due to how she felt about him. It left him feeling unsure of who to choose as he liked them both. Then Luka came into the picture. Like Kagami, Luka was happy to observe but he was a good listener who would encourage him to live how he wanted. He realised he had a thing for people with dark hair, kind personalities and willingness to help those they cared about, aka Marinette, Kagami and Luka. So, he gathered them all and told them how he felt. He was expecting to be let down so he could move on, but they all said they liked him and each other and they were all fine dating all at the same time.

Telling his father had been hard and getting both his dad and Kagami’s mom to accept their relationship had been a miracle. When they all did and Adrien came out to the public as bi and in a poly relationship, he always talked about how he felt like how happy he was was based on a miracle. That’s what they called their group chat, the Miraculous. He’d been so happy with them. when the falling out with his father happened, he’d spent the night with Luka and Marinette’s parents lied to Kagami’s mother that the girls were sleeping over just so they could go and be with Adrien too. When he was told he’d move to London with his aunt, he didn’t want to have to miss them even more through a long-distance relationship so with much difficulty, he explained that he wanted to break up. That last goodbye had been tearful and heart-breaking and he wanted to take it back so many times. He just felt like he didn’t deserve to. He put them in this position, he deserved the pain. No relationship even came close to making him feel that happy again.

“If that’s not too much trouble.”

There was something though, something Alix said. The group was called Miracular. Odd name but it felt too close to Miraculous. And he was on their No Harm list. He didn’t know why but if his wild imagination was right, could they be the reason?

_____________________

“Hello, Tsurugi speaking.”

“Kagami? It’s me, Adrien.”

There as a slight shuffle before the line was silent and he had to check that she didn’t hang up on him. “Adrien?” she sounded breathless. He hoped that was a good sign. “Oh my gosh. I can’t believe it’s you. you went really quiet on social media not long after you left.”

“Yeah, I know. It was hard to see all my friends and not being able to be there. It hurt even more seeing you guys without me close me. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. it hurt, trust me it did, but we knew it was something you needed. Are you still in London?”

“No, I just moved back. I bumped into Alix and she told me you three are still together and running a fashion house together?”

“We are. Black Cat. We named it after you.”

His heart hurt, but in a good way. God, he missed them. “I missed you guys, a lot. No other person made me feel the way you guys did.”

“We missed you too. Like you wouldn’t believe. Look, I know this might be a little fast and you don’t have to say yes, but would you like to have dinner with us?”

“Yes.” He answered immediately. The fact that he was trying to figure out if his lycée sweethearts were related to this syndicate escaped his mind at the thought of getting a second chance with them. he wanted that more than anything. Besides, just because the name of the group was similar to their group chat name didn’t mean it could be related right?

Getting ready for dinner felt like the first date all over again. One of Marinette’s first creations for him was a suit jacket, but she’d made it too big at the time. She’d redone it but he still kept that first one. The smooth black fabric with the gold buttons and dark blue inside liner still looked amazing to this day. He pulled it on and looked at himself in the mirror. He was actually going to do this, see the 3 people he loved more than anything again.

The drive over their large mansion felt like that scene from Crazy Rich Asians though, where the cab was glared down by high end security guards. The cab driver felt a bit lost with the Japanese being thrown around, but thankfully Adrien never forgot the language.

“I’m Adrien Agreste, here to see Kagami Tsurugi.” He said in Japanese, handing them his ID.

He saw that same recognition in the guard’s eyes and heard him yelling at the others to back off, that he was safe.

“Please drive ahead. There’ll be someone to let you in when you arrive at the front door.”

There was. He was reminded of Kagami’s home, with the servants in traditional kimonos. One took his coat and another lead in to a sitting room where there was someone on the phone. He stood there staring at the guy in front of him. Luka’s hair had always been dyed blue but now it seemed he let the black grow out and kept the blue splattered in, looking like an ombre. His hair was much longer and pulled into a low bun, letting the earrings that lined his ear be shown. He was speaking to the other person on the line in Russian, something he rarely spoke when upon the Liberty, though when anyone had really surprised him, soft Russian curse words would slip through his mouth.

Luka quickly hung up when he spotted Adrien by the door. In moments he swept Adrien into a tight hug and didn’t let go. He still smelled like the sea.

“It’s so good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too. I missed you guys a lot.”

They finally pulled away, but Luka took Adrien’s hands and walked backward until he perched himself on the arm of one of the chairs.

“3 things you liked about London.”

Adrien let out a surprised laugh. Luka would make him do that whenever he went out of town, tell him 3 things he liked about the place. “You actually remember that?”

“Of course, I do. Come on, Mari and Mi will take a while because Marinette wants to make sure they look perfect. So come on, humour me.”

“Ok, um 3 things I liked about London. 1, the Shakespeare Theatre was amazing. I saw a show in that room that’s all lit by candle light, it was amazing. You would have loved the guy outside though, pay him anything to typewrite a poem for you with any theme you want. 2, Covent Garden, mostly cause the Royal Opera House if right there once you get off the train. And 3, the history. Maybe not as much a Paris’ but still amazing. I wish I could have shown you guys everything. It took a while for me and Felix to start talking again. It was pretty lonely.”

Luka lifted his hands and pressed a gentle kiss on them. he used to do that to help Adrien calm down. “I wish we could have been there too. But you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

The door opened and in walked Kagami and Marinette. Kagami had grown her hair out some and so did Marinette. The designer had her hair out, flowing down her back.

“Adrien!” he was pulled into another tight hug. God, he missed this so much. He missed them so much. “I’m so glad to see you. I was so happy when Kagami said you were back in town.”

“Here to stay I hope?” Kagami asked, pulling Adrien into a hug.

“Yep. Moved back last week. I hadn’t gotten around to trying to contact everyone but I bumped into Alix and she told me you guys started a company together and passed along your numbers. I’m just glad you said yes.”

“Of course, we did. Come on, dinner’s ready to be served in the Zen Garden.” Marinette said, tugging Adrien to follow her.

“Zen Garden?”

“You can thank Kagami for that.”

“More like my mother. She insisted.”

He’d been worried that dinner would become awkward but it didn’t. they all talked with ease, just like when they’d been dating. He was sitting next to Marinette and in between courses, she’d put her hands on his leg when she was talking to him. He felt Luka nudge at his foot and he and Kagami kept sharing glances.

“So, what are you going to be doing, now that you’re back?” Kagami asked as the dinner plates were taken away and dessert was put down.

“Working with a non-profit as one of their ambassadors. I’ll be working with the others ones and heading on events for donations. And I see someone remembered my favourite dessert.”

“Well, when I mentioned to my dad that Kagami invited you to dinner, he insisted on making you your favourite cake. Passion fruit vanilla.”

He missed the taste of it. No one made pastries quite like M. Dupain.

“So, how’d you bump into Alix? I know she’s been busy studying for her detective exams.” Luka asked.

Oh right, the main reason he called. “well, just this morning I was kinda a hostage in a bank robbery.”

“What? Adrien are you alright?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. They didn’t stay for long. Apparently, they took one look at me and decided it’d be a bad idea to continue. Alix said that there’s this crime syndicate group that has me on their ‘No Harm’ list. Which makes no sense, because I’m pretty sure I don’t know any criminals that would care for me that much.”

“Just because you don’t realise how much you can affect a person, doesn’t mean the meaning behind you being around just disappears.” Luka said.

“You’ve been a huge part of our lives. Even after we broke up, it was hard to forget you. couldn’t help but worry, even just a little.” Marinette continued.

“The thought of anyone hurting you doesn’t sit well with us. We know this is a bit soon, but would you be ok with perhaps…giving us another try?” Kagami asked.

It was becoming obvious to him what he’d been thinking of before, that his miraculous relationship had turned into something when he’d been gone. But even though he was gone, he still meant this much to them. maybe it was worth it to not get a straight answer just yet.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.”

#adrienaugust #adrienaugreste #lukadriengaminette #getting back together #Lukanettegami run a crime syndicate

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zaney-hacknslash · 6 years ago

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Death Note - Void Pt2

Ide

Lunch rush packed the restaurant; customers clumped in the lobby so deep and thick, I could hardly elbow my way through to ask how long the wait might be. Servers and hosts flurried around with menus and congenial smiles, careful, always, to bow and greet everyone who came through the door, despite the fact that the grating sound of the doorbell sounded off every few seconds.

Thirty minute wait. I checked my watch.

Lunch rush hadn’t been part of this equation, honestly. I’d thought I could come sit down, alone, with Matsuda, for a handful of minutes, ask him a couple questions, and get back to headquarters in less than an hour. The time of day had never occurred to me.

This was his favorite place right now, loud and hopping. Pop music blasted, the chairs were too close together, even on a slow day, and it always seemed just a degree or so to cold.

Beside me, moody Matsuda stood glaring at the floor with his arms folded, like a little kid who’d gotten dragged against his will into an adult dinner party. Once or twice, I heard him sigh, a bit heavily, but the usual enthusiasm that swept him through his day-to-day life showed no sign of reemerging.

If he hadn’t been so upset, I might have turned around and walked right out to find somewhere quieter to eat.

I tried, several times, to say something to him, opening my mouth, and then immediately glancing at the other guests jammed in at my shoulder. Matsuda had no filter when it came to expressing himself, so I doubted the presence of strangers mattered, but I’d purposely brought him here to get a little privacy. I kept thinking he’d say something, even if it was just to complain about how long it was taking to get a seat, but he hardly looked up.

“I didn’t expect it to be so crowded,” I admitted, at last.

“It’s lunch time, Ide,” he muttered, more than used to my pickiness.

“Yes, but I had no idea this place was so popular.” At least, I didn’t understand it. The furniture was garish and cheap, and imitation art of American movies stars from decades gone by cluttered the wall, along with vintage knick knacks. One or two photos of Elvis Presley and a single replica of Marylin Monroe’s famous white dress would have done the trick. This place tried entirely too hard to look like an American diner from the 1950’s.

“This was your idea,” he reminded me.

Even so, if we left now and went down the street to a place I liked better, he might not be as comfortable. He might not find anything on the menu he wanted to eat. Getting lunch with me might turn out to be something that merely added to his frustration, when all was said and done, especially since I’d more or less forced him to come along when he didn’t want to in the first place.

Besides, anywhere else might be just as crowded, and if we had to start our wait all over again, not only would Matsuda be annoyed, everyone at headquarters could get mad at me.

“It’s fine,” I assured coolly, though the doorbell going off over and over was getting on my nerves, like a bad song I couldn’t turn off, and the gentleman at my shoulder kept accidentally brushing against me and muttering, “Sumimasen,” right in my ear. He had bad breath.

“Normally…” I pressed closer to Matsuda, trying to get away from my neighbor, “we eat kind of early.”

Normally, he couldn’t stand to sit at headquarters past ten, so there was usually a break to get him coffee or some kind of snack. Either way, he always started whining about being hungry an hour later.

That hadn’t happened all week, though. I’d barely seen Matsuda eat at all, in addition to hardly talking. Hopelessly, I stared around at the wild, uncomfortable atmosphere, struggling to tune out the door bell and the man coughing on the back of my neck, skeptical that such an unsettling environment could possibly restore Matsuda’s good cheer.

Finally, a fresh-faced kid jaunted up to us, bowing. “Gentlemen, so sorry for the wait. If you would, follow me, please,” and then he hustled us through the crowded dining room, to a small table set for two, where he turned to smile at us. “Here we are. I hope this suits you.”

In my opinion, he’d chosen the worst possible location for us, jammed at a tiny square at the center of the room, surrounded by a sea of people, but without Matsuda to assure him everything was perfect and thank the man, it was up to me to muddle through the polite talk.

The host promised we’d receive timely service, and ran off again. Matsuda threw himself down in one of the chairs, grabbing up his plastic menu to immediately hide his face behind it; I barely got a glimpse of his slanted brows and down-turned mouth.

I sat down too. The table wobbled, and the vase of flowers at the center was too big, crowding in on my space. The woman seated behind me was so close, I might as well have sat down in her lap, and the doorbell buzzed again and again.

“You like this place, right?” I asked, lighting a cigarette and studying him.

“Yeah. It’s my favorite.” The music was just loud enough to make it hard to hear him. That was new, too. Matsuda was normally so loud, he would have just screamed over the noise to make himself heard.

Shuichi and the others seemed quite committed to letting him be, hoping his issues would resolve themselves, but I couldn’t bear to keep sitting by and watch him be unhappy. I’d do anything to relieve it.

Just this once, I told myself, and then I never had to eat here again.

“What’s good?” I wondered, finally picking up my menu. The food sounded just as bad as the atmosphere, the lunch menu cluttered with things like the Elvis Favorite, Marylin Monroe Patty Melt, and James Dean Fries. Absolutely ridiculous. Most of it was hamburgers anyway, but, at the very bottom they’d crammed in a few traditional Japanese dishes, for the old timers who got dragged in here by their kids.

Although he’d normally rattle off for five minutes, issuing an exhaustive list of everything that looked good and everything that sounded gross, making recommendations, Matsuda just shrugged and sighed, like food had become an annoyance.

Just once, I reminded myself again, and tried to focus on what I’d come for.

I’d never seen him this way.

Even before I really knew him, he’d always been that guy. The one who smiled all the time and greeted everyone he passed, never forgetting his honorifics, never remembering anyone’s name, the guy who always looked like he was about to blow a brain cell every time he had to sit down, be quiet, and do actual work for a minute or two. Back when he first joined the department, some people had sneeringly nicknamed him Nikko-san, partly after his uncle, who’d gotten him the job, and partly because he was Mr. Sunshine, but definitely not out of affection.

After Chief Yagami and the others left to work with L, plenty of those same people had laughed good and hard about how lucky the task force was to have Mr. Sunshine working with them.

When I rejoined the task force, I hadn’t been surprised at all to find Matsuda acting just as unprofessional and ridiculous as ever. I’d even asked Aizawa, “How have you dealt with that kid for so long? He’s driving me crazy already.”

My old friend had frowned, almost as if the words had offended him, and he’d taken his time to answer, much more carefully than I’d expected, “Well…he’s not as bad as he seems.”

The response had floored me. Here I’d been expecting Aizawa to grumble at least a little about what a pain Matsuda was—we were friends, after all, and pretty used to bitching to each other—but based on his reaction, it had seemed like the kid must have gotten under his skin, and I’d even detected a slight thread of protectiveness in his tone, or at least some disapproval of my talking bad about Matsuda.

“I’m thinking about taking a day off,” I announced, laying my menu aside. “If I can.”

Matsuda didn’t bite.

“Yeah. You know. It’s been a long time since I had so much as an uninterrupted weekend.”

Normally, he’d be all over that, more than ready to whine about working himself to death, eventually coming around to how important the case was, how we had to do what we could, and then back to how tragic it was to be young and single, carefree and restless without the time to sow his oats.

Today, he simply muttered, “Yeah.”

Behind him, I noticed a baseball bat hanging on the wall, supposedly signed by Babe Ruth himself, and steeped in a million vinyl records that had been plastered against the wallpaper. These people couldn’t actually think that enthusiasts of retro American culture would find this charming. They certainly couldn’t believe an American tourist would ever even miss home so much that he’d stumble through the door.

“I think I’ll catch a ball game. The season’s almost over, and the Swallows are playing the Giants.” I dragged on my cigarette, hopelessly waiting for him to pick up his end of the conversation, if only to save me from the torturous sounds around me.

He didn’t really like baseball, I remembered, or rather, he didn’t understand it. It moved too slow, he said, and he got bored fast, but I knew he enjoyed the novelty of garbing himself in home team colors, filing into the stadium with all the rabid fans, drinking a beer, eating a hot dog—like a “real American”—having a blast with old friends, and making new ones out of the people sitting near him. I liked going with him myself, because he always screamed loudest about the things he didn’t understand and got himself into interesting situations, or he hung off my every word when I explained, for the umpteenth time, how the game worked.

“I doubt that workaholic Aizawa will want to go.” Even if Shuichi allowed himself to do something as sporadic as take a day off, he’d prefer to spend it with his family than with me at the ballpark, arguing about which team was better this season. “Wanna tag along?”

Matsuda never answered, leaving me to sit there like an idiot, wondering why this new attitude of his bothered me so much.

It hadn’t taken long for me to see how he’d gotten past Shuichi’s angry bear exterior to his cuddly teddy center. Matsuda had a likeable way about him, and where most of the detectives I’d met tended to be taciturn, cynical, and even pompous, his bubbly way of thinking out loud, laughing in the face of difficulty, and admiration for the rest of us made him a breath of fresh air.

So, he’d gotten under my skin too. And, over the last couple years, he’d accomplished even more than that, becoming part of my life, effortlessly—my lunch mate, my drinking buddy, my sparring partner, my weird, little friend. Sure, he teased me endlessly about my love life and drove me crazy with his goofiness, but he never forgot my birthday, and when I had a bad day, he could tell. Even if I never told him anything very personal or serious, he had this way of reminding me things would work out any time I started to feel like they might not. Before long, I started to understand why even the chief let him tag along everywhere and overlooked so much of his silliness, because Matsuda was honest, simple, and even though none of us would ever say so to his face, really sweet.

Seeing him so unhappy for so many days in a row was beginning to have an adverse effect on the team: Shuichi was getting worried, and even Mogi seemed distracted, I’d noticed Light becoming frustrated. Long-suffering Chief Yagami alone proceeded with his work unbothered, but he had to be that way, as the boss.

All of it really rubbed me the wrong way.

“Well, anyway.” I squinted at the menu again. The lights were too bright and stark, and I wanted to order soon so we could get out of here. “I doubt Light will let two of us take off at once.”

“Sorry about that,” Matsuda muttered, probably just for the sake of being polite. He must know he was acting weird, even if he didn’t realize it bugged me so much.

I never planned on any of this, and I barely knew how my relationship with Matsuda had segued so seamlessly from coworkers to actual friends, I just knew that right after I came back to the task force, while the others were busy, he’d taken it upon himself to tell me the whole story of every crazy thing that had happened since I walked away from them outside the station that night. A lot of what he’d said hadn’t been particularly relevant to the investigation, but he’d been so familiar and laidback, like we’d known each other forever, I’d gotten caught up in my astonishment at how cavalierly he was treating me—me, Dai Kaze, the guy no one had ever liked, since at least middle school—like it was just no big deal at all to sit down and have a chat with asshole Hideki Ide.

By the time he’d finished, I hadn’t really known what to say, but there’d been a few questions to ask, and a few comments to make—routine responses—and I’d never forget the bright interest that had gleamed in his eyes as we talked back and forth, like maybe he couldn’t believe it either, that he was talking so casually with a guy like me, let alone that I’d talk back.

After being around grumpy, old Shuichi, and Mogi, who sometimes seemed incapable of holding a conversation, it was probably pretty refreshing for him, and he’d chatted with me a lot since then, any time he felt bored or wanted to say something out loud. Over time, I’d been able to intuit that he appreciated how closely I listened, and that, even if I didn’t always have something nice to say, I made him feel important by acknowledging that he had thoughts and ideas and feelings.

The damn feelings had honestly annoyed me at first, and there’d been times when I’d gone so far as to suggest he keep a diary instead of bothering me. I didn’t like snapping at him like that. I didn’t want him to think I was an asshole and stop associating with me. None of it fazed him, though, he kept talking about whatever came into his head, and, in time, I just got used to it.

Anymore, I assumed I had the most personal relationship with him, which made me the one he’d feel most comfortable talking to in this state of obvious depression, but it still shocked me that I’d come to care about him enough that I’d take time out of my day to actively try to get to the bottom of Matsuda’s deep well of sentiments.

“Hey, Matsu-kun. Wanna tell me what’s wrong lately?”

He sat slouched, now, cheek resting on his fist, staring disinterestedly at the centerpiece, and from the reluctant glance he slid at me, I gathered he’d been hoping I wouldn’t bring it up. But Matsuda wasn’t a liar, so he asked, “Really? You want to know?”

“You said Sumi…”

Wincing, he stared all the harder at the flowers.

“…I’ve never seen you take a break up so hard.”

Involved in a case as extensive as ours, there wasn’t much time for dating, but Matsuda had a tendency to fall into the clutches of beautiful but shallow women, the kind who just wanted to have fun. They saw a good-looking guy in a nice car, didn’t know enough about the NPA to realize a corporal detective didn’t make much money, and ran the kid around, buying crap with his credit card and saddling him with the bags, like a pack horse.

It was a trap I’d gotten into a lot back when I was younger—there were a lot of things about Matsuda that reminded me of myself—it had made me cynical about women, and it pissed me off to watch it happening to him.

But Matsu didn’t have much capacity for cynicism, and, usually, breaking up with a girl didn’t do much more than dampen his spirits for a day or two.

“Did you really think she was the one?”

Matsuda suddenly sat up and took a long look around the restaurant. “Where the hell is the server? Hey!” He banged his fork on the wobbly table. Water sloshed from his glass, and I jerked my elbows back into my lap. “We’re ready to order over here!”

“Geez,” I hissed, mortified, and watched as a frazzled-looking girl ran over, apologizing and jotting down his order. She turned to me.

“Ah, sorry about that,” I muttered, feeling like the music might drown my voice out anyway. I couldn’t understand why they’d be playing pop instead of American oldies, unless they just didn’t honestly know anything about that era. “I’ll just have…” I’d never decided, because none of it had sounded any good. “Soup, and a salad.” I shot a quick glance at Matsuda, and then at her. “Sorry, really. He’s not normally so… Well, we’re in a hurry, that’s all.”

“Not at all, sir!” she beamed. “I apologize things are so slow today.”

She took off, and he settled his cheek back on his fist, glaring at the centerpiece again. “You don’t have to be sorry, Ide,” he announced. “It’s their job to serve us, and we’ve been sitting here forever.”

“Even Aizawa doesn’t bang his fork when he shouts at the staff,” I muttered.

With a small shrug, he reached out to rearrange some of the flowers, and I tried to find a way to change the subject to something more lighthearted.

“These flowers drive me crazy,” he admitted in a moment, listlessly, though.

They were the only even slightly nice thing in the restaurant, but I asked, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yellow and purple carnations?” He wrinkled his nose. “What are they thinking?”

I glanced at the flowers myself. “What if they were pink and orange?” We’d been guessing for a while that the dork might be colorblind, but he got extremely offended any time someone so much as asked about it. “Would that make more sense?”

Matsuda suddenly scanned the room, eyebrows tilting toward his hairline, as if he’d just realized none of the color scheme in here made sense to him. “Pink and orange,” he echoed. And then, evidently blind to the glaring palette of crimson, chrome orange, and hot pink in the room, he frowned at me. “Why are you being such a jerk today?”

“I just asked if you’d like that better,” I corrected.

Instead of arguing, he fell back into the maddening silence.

“Come on, seriously,” I prompted, after a couple minutes. “Are you really in this bad of mood over a girl?”

Eyes fixed on the bobbing ice, Matsuda turned his glass around and around on the table, a sure sign of disquiet.

“Or is there something else?”

He picked an orange flower out of the centerpiece and stared hard at it, like he was trying to understand why I’d lie to him about its color.

“It might be a good thing, Matsuda. At least now you’re not wasting time with the wrong person—”

“That’s all great, coming from a guy who hasn’t been laid in the last decade.”

I cut off mid-sentence to frown mildly at him, but Matsuda just stuck the orange flower into his water glass and glowered at it.

“Is that your problem?” I demanded, a little sharply. “You’re not getting any now, so you’re turning into a cranky bitch?”

“That’s what happens, right? Everyone says that’s what your problem is.”

I rolled my eyes. “Shit, Matsuda. With a mouth like that, how have you made it through life without getting your face busted in?”

He just frowned at his flower.

“Didn’t your parents spend hundreds of millions of yen on your damn teeth? I’d watch who you pop off to.”

Obviously, he had no intention of answering, so I sat back and studied him a while longer. Once or twice, he’d crept up to that line of saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, but he had to be tremendously irritated, and that just didn’t happen all that often. I couldn’t believe he’d say something so crass to me, a superior.

The fact that I’d brought him to lunch as a friend rather than a subordinate made for a tricky situation. I probably should throw a fit, box his ears, and write him up, but I’d started this by getting so personal.

That’s exactly why Aizawa and the others have been trying to handle this so professionally.

Stupid ass me just had to go screw it up.

Even being here as friends, it probably wouldn’t be out of the question to rescind my offer to buy lunch, get up, and go back to HQ without him. That’s probably even what he expected. For all I knew, he’d intentionally pushed my buttons to get me to leave him alone.

Then again, what he’d said didn’t actually bother me that much; for one thing, it wasn’t true, and for another, it was the sort of thing I’d gotten used to, growing up with three brothers. I decided to forget about it.

Besides, overly emotional Matsuda didn’t know shit about putting up walls.

“Who do you want relationship advice from?” I wondered. “Light? Kinda weird, getting tips about women from a kid fresh out of college.”

Matsuda’s scowl deepened, and I knew my insult hit its mark.

“Aizawa? His marriage it apt to fall apart any second now.” I checked my watch. “I’ll bet Eriko’s filing divorce papers as we speak. That guy sucks at love.”

The next glare was so fierce and disapproving, I knew he really didn’t like me picking on his hero.

“The deputy director?” I suggested. “Now there’s a guy who hasn’t been laid in a long time, Matsu.”

At once, the frown fell completely apart, giving way to a gaping, shocked mouth and popping, horrified eyes. He checked over both shoulders, like Deputy Director Yagami might be listening in, and I knew he’d forgotten all about his wall of sugar glass. “Ide,” he hissed, “you don’t just say stuff like that.”

“No?” It was my turn to shrug. “Well, my bad, I guess. I’m just saying, not a lot of great options. If you’re gonna tell anybody what the deal is, it might as well be me.”

“Oh, yeah right,” he barked, suddenly, in an acidic tone. “At least the others won’t make fun of me.”

I blinked at him. “What? Why would I make fun of you?”

His hard eyes glared at me, like he couldn’t believe I had the audacity to ask that. “Trying to trick me into thinking I’m colorblind—”

“I think you actually might be—”

“Dissing on my music—”

“Not everybody likes—”

“Acting like it’s ridiculous for me to get upset after Sumi cheated on me.”

Bingo.

Go figure, all it took was to get him talking a little, and the truth spilled.

I had to work very hard not to allow a satisfied smirk to pass my lips. Instead, I pretended to be bothered, fumbling with my cigarettes and mumbling, “I didn’t know all that annoyed you so much.”

Matsuda glared at me, quiet again, probably realizing he’d said something without meaning to.

“So…” I lit my cigarette. “She cheated on you, huh?”

“Yeah,” he sputtered, “yeah, she did. With some…loser biboi she met in a trashy club. I don’t think she was even drunk, she was just done with me because I’m so boring, working all the time, not paying enough attention to her, even after I’ve spent every yen I earned last year on her. She didn’t even bother to lie about it, just showed up one day to give back the key to my apartment and laugh at me.”

Calmly, I ashed my cigarette. Wasn’t that the story of my life?

“Go ahead and laugh, Ide,” he dared. “Tell me I’m stupid, I should have seen it coming, and my taste in women is terrible, like you always do. Tell me it was dumb to think she was the one, and all women suck, and that you told me, months ago, she was just using me. Because you did, and you love being right.”

I’d never seen him explode like that, half-shouting, drawing the attention of everyone on our side of the room, face burning with shame, eyes fierce with outrage. I never would have guessed the kid had such a temper hidden beneath all the manners and cheer.

“Settle down, Matsu,” I advised, lowly. “What are you, nine?”

Outrage turned immediately to rage. “You—”

“Knock it off,” I snapped. “I didn’t say any of that.”

He threw himself back in his chair, seething, and probably the only thing that kept him from all-out screaming at me was the fact that I was higher ranked than him.

“Jeez,” I muttered, when I’d given him a few moments to get himself together. “I’d hate to see you get really mad about something.”

“I am really mad!” he professed.

“Right. Look.” I put my cigarette out, not wanting the rest, and glanced around for our food, thinking it would be nice to have a distraction right now. “What do you think this is? Some victory lunch? Like I brought you here just to rub it in your face that your girlfriend cheated on you? Damn. Here I thought we were friends.”

His breath hitched, and his eyebrows tilted up in a sulky expression. I guess I’d never called him my friend out loud before, but it wasn’t exactly the time for a big, stupid grin and a victory dance.

“I just wanted to know what’s got your panties in a bunch. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you—you’re the one being a little prick, talking about the last time I got laid and saying I’m bitchy because I don’t get enough sex.”

Shame colored his face.

“So, could you just take it down a notch?”

Matsuda scowled at the table, and I thought I heard him mutter, “Sorry.”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t really care.” And then I looked around for the food again, but I was just about to give up and go somewhere else. “I’m just saying being a jerk doesn’t look so good on you.”

Slightly, he nodded.

“It’s fine if you’re upset,” I told him, after another moment. “What she did to you was really shitty. But I don’t like to think that you’ve been pouting because you think nobody would care.”

“No,” he murmured, “It’s just not work talk.”

“Nothing you ever say is work talk. Anyway, you could have at least told me. I know a lot about dishonest, heartless women.”

A hint of sympathy shaded his eyes.

“That’s why I said you shouldn’t let it bother you so much. Girls like that are cheap—you can pick one up anywhere—and they’re not very creative. Cheating with losers, bringing back the key just to laugh at you…” I shrugged. “They aren’t worth the trouble. They definitely aren’t worth ruining a perfectly good lunch your buddy buys just to cheer your ass up.”

Bewildered, he finally met my gaze again.

“So, come on.” I smirked at him. “If you’re gonna be pissed off and sad, let’s order some whiskey.”

Whiskey helped a little. After the first round, he’d started talking a little more normally about the usual nonsense that occupied his mind, and then the food came, so he was quiet a while. Mine wasn’t very good—the soup was thin and the salad was gritty, so I mostly talked and smoked, trying to keep him distracted. Regardless, his expression showed me he still was unhappy.

After the second whiskey, we left the restaurant. It was a relief to be out of the noise and harsh lights of the diner, but Matsuda seemed content with lunch at least. In a few blocks, he started joking with me, so I knew the anger had burned out fast.

I doubted anyone would believe me if I told them about it.

Outside the headquarters, he hesitated, staring up at the building to sigh, and then he admitted, slowly, “I know you’re right…but…I really liked her, Ide. I…I loved her.”

He did have terrible tastes in women.

“Yeah.” I squeezed his shoulder. “That’s how it goes sometimes, kid. Sometimes, you really love somebody, and they just don’t feel that way back.” That, too, was the story of my life. Suppressing a sigh, I gazed up at the building too, with all its sparkling windows and the roof that tried to vanish in the clouds. “It’s not your fault,” I murmured. “There’s only so much you can do.”

“I guess not,” he whispered.

“You can find someone else, though.”

Swallowing hard, he nodded.

“Just don’t get cynical about it, okay? They’re not all like that.” I said the words, but the only reason I could so much as bother to think it was because of Shuichi and Eriko. She’d stood by him through everything, possibly the most loyal and genuine woman I’d ever met.

I’d just gotten incredibly unlucky.

“You’re not gonna wind up like me,” I assured him. “It’s impossible.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked, quietly.

So many reasons, some he might not ever understand, some I didn’t think I could ever bring myself to tell him.

At last, I teased, “’Cause you’re so damn cute,” and slung my arm around his neck. “If I were as cute as you, I might have a chance, but I got screwed in personality and looks.”

Matsuda smiled a little. “I don’t know, Taniki-tan. Your personality’s not that bad.”

#writing #fanfiction #Death Note #Touta Matsuda #matsuda touta #Ide Hideki

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