Second World - Chapter 3 "What Have I Done"

Sep 09, 2013 22:22

Warnings: fluff (Tao/Fei), angst (Fei/Yoh), memory of a traumatic assault (Fei), crack (Aki, Kirishima Kei),
Disclaimers: all VF characters belong to Yamane Ayano
Rating: R



What Have I Done

Hong Kong Island, Liu Estate

“Fei-Sama - you’re back! Arrggh - I cannot breathe! You’re squeezing me! It’s nice! You have to go on a trip more often - you are happy! Only - take me with you next time…”

“Oh I will, Tao, I will. You’ll come with me every time … as long as you want to, anyway. It’s nice you still do. Let me look at you. You’ve grown so tall … let me hug you once more! You think the last time was tight? You … are soft!”

“And you are funny. I like it! Who made you happy? Now stay, I’ll make you happy. Please give me my present! - Why are you extreme-smiling?”

“ ‘Extreme-smiling’ - what an expression. Now you’re making me laugh. Was I ‘extreme-smiling’? … I didn’t realize … one last hug for that … and then … I did bring you something. I was given it by someone we both like very much. It’s very, very small.”

“Oooooh - someone to play with! Cool. And I don’t mind that it’s small - it will grow. Anyway, tell you a secret - please bend down, I want to whisper it into your ear … I like being the oldest, and the tallest, and the smartest, and I want to be the one to decide what we play, and he - it’s a he, yes? - he must do everything I say, and I will teach him everything I can think of, and I…”

“Oh, I think I got your meaning!”

Fei Long laughed, straightening up.

“I could listen for hours, but my back … I’m going to do a round of sparring, want to join me? Perhaps you’re already stronger than me. Back pain will never do, don’t know what is the matter with me…”

He stretched, fondly observing his young charge romping with the puppy he had brought along, a parting gift of Akihito’s. “They wanted to put him down!” That indignant tone…

… not only small animals were put down … Fei Long’s biological father, War Leader of Hong Kong, had shot young Fei…

The cloud passed, but his charge noticed.

“Sorry, Fei-Sama! I’ll bring you a cushion! Some tea! I’ll massage you! I’ll comb your hair! I’ll - help!!!” Tao squealed, delighted, “now you’re hugging me harder still! You’re squeezing all of my candied pineapples out of me!”

***

The cook of the Liu estate, Chow Yum-Yum, had a hard time trying to hide a smile. The young master Tao was feeling very important.

“Yes, just as I told you! He wants octopus with a banana dressing. Baked in honey. And some duck. A lot of ducks. Maybe a whole hive…”

“Hive - is for bees. For ducks - flock.”

The old Shanghai ex-patriot chuckled.

“What is it, then, that he wants? Soooo much” - he stretched to the ceiling, “honey? Or is it soooo many”, he held his arms wide, “ducks?”

Tao looked uncertain for a moment, then broke out smiling.

“I don’t know - make him both! And candied pineapple. ‘When in doubt, go all out’ - Akihito says that - you know, the fun guy from Tokyo!”

***

Where was he? He had died … again. When you died people forgot you. They never came back … and if you hadn’t died, after all, this was what remained, that they were gone. That stupid someone hadn’t known. He had been there every time, every single time. He had forgotten to go like the other one. But the next time he would remember … that you didn’t wait for dead people.

He had been there, every single time, and the last time …

Fei Long startled up. He had dozed off again, in his library chair. What vivid, intense dreams! So physical. Furtively, he crossed his legs. That was happening to him a lot, lately! He hoped Tao, playing at his feet, hadn’t noticed anything. These cheongsams sure sucked at hiding “morning wood”. A bit moist, too, really.

He couldn’t understand his altered state of mind.

He’d long since acknowledged his alcohol intolerance. A little wine with special dinners - the heady, glittery Fragrant Harbour Gala … Yoh, too, only drank one glass of century Chianti, he’d noticed. Was he afflicted with similar issues? Or just the more the sober type?

Rarely Fei let himself indulge in a single bourbon-on-the-rocks. After a particularly tedious meeting of particularly holier-than-thou (and aggressive!) hippy leaders, for instance. They didn’t accept him anyway, because of his financial success, his methods and his past. But they didn’t want to make do without his money, either.

A small opium pipe before an unpleasant confrontation, like back with Asami. Ah, Asami, how far away he suddenly seemed … and was he really officially dating Akihito now? Tabloid headers (in the most dubious sources) would point in that direction … Akihito, you can’t say I never warned you!

The occasional joint with Aki and his friends, not all of them hippies. Akihito had told him that surgical nurse from the hospital, Takato, was a soldier! Good thing he hadn’t known … but none of them ever said no to a “Pipe of Peace”, did they?

So, not much in the way of drugs. And he hadn’t even had that, somehow he hadn’t felt like it anymore - ever since coming back from the operation.

Which had all been for nothing.

A yearning rose up in him, the haunting sense of a chance lost for good. He had so wanted to do this … for him. And, if he was honest, for himself, too.

He felt certain Yoh didn’t respect him, probably didn’t even like him all that much. Nobody had ever done, after all. You couldn’t count Akihito - he liked everyone! He was the true hippy, the hippy idol incarnate, popular with everyone, beloved even by “square” Second World.

As clearly as he saw Yoh’s disdain of him, he also knew, beyond doubt, in his very bones, that the Commander lusted for him. Sensed this instantly, when Yoh came, even if he never touched him. In prison, at the human barricade gone so horribly wrong … he drew in his breath sharply.

Where would he be now, but for Yoh? What would he be? And that wasn’t counting the truly maddening way Yoh had pulled his political clout, on several occasions, to support him. All the while going out of his way to avoid facing him in person, if ever possible. And if it couldn’t be helped, if Yoh couldn’t get out of speaking to him, in public, he was often so curt it was almost rude. “The Commander” must feel incredible contempt for him, besides, perhaps, a little, for Fei deeply galling, pity.

How he longed to repay his debt. To buy himself free! A life for a life.

Yoh would love having a child, that was obvious. The way he watched over Tao, who was nothing to him…

As a war leader, he was excluded from applying for the operation himself.

Fei Long suddenly laughed out loud (making Tao look up from training his puppy to “sit” in wonder). Yoh with a pregnant belly! Somehow … like a graffiti covered tank. Pink, of course, with lots of fairy dust. Perhaps wearing a pink maternity uniform? But soldiers wore army green … the ones at the human barricade, had, anyway…

… why hadn’t he protected himself better? And the others? What had he been thinking, consenting to that hair-brained scheme of chaining themselves to the rails, depriving himself of any ability to defend himself or his naïve comrades? How mad to rely on human instinct to spare a defenceless … he hadn’t thought of it since returning from Tokyo, but suddenly, abruptly, the images were there, stark and alive as on the day it had happened.

The army green of the soldiers closing in on him, anonymous and dehumanized in their uniforms and masks … and his desperate realization that he had miscalculated. The next barricade partners were not far off, but couldn’t see him, a rock and a cluster of bushes obscuring their line of vision. He could have shouted, but found himself unable to utter a sound.

It wasn’t fear, silencing him. It was a sickening sense of déjà vu, of having gone through a similar situation and not learnt anything. Once - could happen to anyone. He hadn’t been forewarned, he didn’t feel anything until very much later. But the second time round, he knew what was coming, he was responsible …

…Akihito … if anything happened to him … and the others …

And beside all this shame, crippling shame. He, proud, capable Liu Fei Long, trying so hard, was once more, and this time quite literally, getting fucked over.

When a cloth was bound around his face and he felt the first hand on his skin, on his belly … and he couldn’t do anything to prevent it from inching down, he tried to black out. But his survival instincts kicked in, grappling for a way out, a way to keep this from happening.

He could still, to this very day, hear their voices, low, charged with lust and cruelty, their nasty chuckling, when he couldn’t stop himself from struggling against his chains.

“Should have thought of that before, huh, stupid long hair?”

“Oh, come on … don’t play hard to get, little hippy slut…”

“Not so little! See, he’s tall … nice abs …”

Excitement sharpened the soldier’s voices …

“… do you know who we have here …!”

“ Jack pot … ! Haha. The martial arts hippy… !”

“This one spells trouble, comrades …”

“Remember how he got those flustered bunnies organized at the missile transport? Forced us to retreat …”

“Or how the armoury was raided, when we wanted to storm the peace camp on Hokkaido?”

“Or how they vanished … making a fool of us … at the Marmara Village incident …”

“He’s the long hair that nicked the Antonov! The 225 Mrya! And the MiG! He’s a fighter jet pilot … some hippy …!”

“Oh yes, shit kicking hippy monkey, traitor … well. Payback time, now, Mr. Guerrilla Hippy …”

“Little hippy slut …”, the ringleader repeated, his voice dripping with deadly sweetness, “we can see that you want it … and aren’t your kind always preaching it? … what about a round of ‘free love’ for some hardworking public servants … ah don’t jerk back, that won’t help you any…”

He didn’t even manage to close his eyes.

“Guess he doesn’t know how a real man fucks”, the ringleader sneered, “we’ll show you, pretty long hair, can’t wait to drill myself into you, aaah … what smooth skin …. nnnggghh … what a pert, firm ass … your cock you won’t need - take that!”

“Aww!”

“Haw haw haw … I’m going to slam into you now, and the others will watch … and then it will be their turn, and you can’t do anything to stop us, you silly ‘pacifist’ boy, tied yourself up, haw haw … why - thank you!”

A multitude of lecherous laughter … so many eyes, leering … but it wasn’t so much that they wanted him, this was more about destroying.

Don’t you know you’re doing my people a favour, letting the arrogant, militant bastard, letting me really have it?

“You saved us trouble, for once … and now we’ll fuck you … right into the mother earth you’re always worshipping … and if you’re still twitching … we’ll shovel it on to you, bury you and your sissy face in the dirt … you’re the little rich boy, aren’t you? Aren’t your kind forbidden to have any possessions? Well, that won’t matter anymore … ahahaaa…”

The sound track replayed again and again in his head, as distinct as a recording. When it got to this point he couldn’t do anything to stop it. And yet, he couldn’t tell how far they had actually gone.

Abruptly, the atmosphere changed.

A wave of power crashed down over the scene, leaving in its wake numbness …silence, sparks exploding in his vision.

A voice spoke up, burning into his soul, as if originating from somewhere inside of his head, a gong marking the end of his world.

What came after remained hazy. Blankets, blue white lights, a hot drink being forced on him, hectic, worried chattering … “Akihito” … he had called again and again … Akihito was there … but others … were not.

Weeks later he came out of the haze, thinking nothing too bad could have happened to him, gingerly probing for physical injuries. His balls hurt, but otherwise nothing was wrong, as far as he could tell.

Akihito was in deep mourning. Now his father, or at any rate substitute father, was dead, too.

And still he’d tried to reach out to Fei, told him the war leader Yoh in person had saved him, and almost all of the others, too.

Almost.

Fei Long felt numb, and wasn’t so sure he hadn’t died after all.

Yoh! … Yoh. Why didn’t you let them … finish me off…

“Fei-Sama, why are you sad? You are happy, ever since Tokyo!”

“Tao … come here … hold me, close…”

“Cook says you’ll get a baby!”

“Hush … what nonsense … where should that come from?”

“But you had this - this ‘o-pa-shin’?”

“Yes, my sweet, ‘operation’, yes, I did. But that alone will not make a baby. For a baby you need a second person. You have to come very close to each other … um, we’ll talk about that … some other time. Just so much, for now - I had a lovely dream, in Tokyo, but in the morning … I couldn’t let him come near me. I can’t. I’m so sorry…”

“But why, Fei-Sama? You’re so cool! You can do everything. Why is it so difficult, to let someone near?”

“It isn’t like that for everyone…”

“Will you let me near?”

“Haha - of course. That is different. But why are you calling me Fei-‘Sama’, still? That Akihito! He put that flea into your ear. Now tell you what: you have cheered me up, and you’ll get your reward: I’ll stomp you! In Monopoly! What about it - feel up to it?”

“Oooooh yesss, every time. Only I will stomp you. And maybe you’re wrong? Maybe that someone did come near? While you were sleeping. Because that little lightning, coming out of your eyes, ever so often, now, do you know what that means?”

“Lightning? Out of my eyes?! That doesn’t sound healthy!”

“Oh but it is, it is … I looked on the internet, ‘researched’, yes me! And they say it means - ”

“Yes?”

“ - it means you’re ‘in love’. And that is supposed to be very, very, very good! What does that mean, Fei-Sama - ‘in love’…?”

***

Outskirts of Tokyo, low-rent high-rise flat

“Peace, Kei!”

“Peace - ahahaaa …Takaba Akihito! Far ooooout”, the middle aged, spectacled, pony-tailed hippy beamed all over his (sparsely) bearded face. “Come on in, come in! What leads you to my humble digs? Misleads, more likely”, he giggled. “Come, make yourself at home…”

Akihito gingerly picked his way through ruined stuffed chairs and sofas, grouped chaotically around a wild style mix of tables. Everything was overflowing with pharmaceutical and biochemical printouts. Plastic containers were stacked everywhere, spilling over with unsettling lab gear. A microscope, diverse machines and computer stuff from all stages of digital history were methodically arranged in the mercifully half dark far end of the room. Takeout Ramen boxes, a beautiful, intricate oriental bong and half empty coke bottles, strewn about haphazardly, completed the cliché of “mad hippy scientist Messy”.

“How … cosy. You should really rent out your lab as a movie location, Kei. I’m amazed you find anything here! Far out…”

“Oh I find a lot”, the hippy doctor hummed, “maybe not always what I want.”

He began rummaging wildly, apparently going through his things at random, but really, as he never got tired of explaining to his young friend, in a highly organized and ingenious manner.

“A lot of the time I find what I don’t want”, he sped up his search, and Akihito began to feel dizzy.

“In fact, what nobody wants…”

He located something, and smiled like a cat.

“Wanna light up a ‘Kazoo of Colombian’, Akihito, you know … get in the mood…?”

“Ummm … no thank you … another time … I got someone waiting …”

Kirishima rubbed his hands, cackling.

“Aaaah … I understaaaaand! All the better. Will get you in the mood for that, all right, you won’t be so uptight, you know … tell me”, he whispered, confidentially, “ is he such a stud as everyone says … ?! Ahahaaa! He’s blushing! I managed to make the famous Takaba blush!”

The scientist squeaked in glee.

“Well then - perhaps you’d prefer mushrooms? Valuable protein, you know, replenish what you’re, um, losing … hmmmm? … no? Well … you can’t say no to some tea! Strictly herbal. Healthy. What could go wrong with a good cup of tea? Hmmm. I see. More the academic, the bookworm type. Blotting paper. That’s what you need then - some of my very special blotting paper … no? Then what can I do for you, my notorious darling?”

“Could you please take a downer, or something, Kei? I need you to pay close attention…”

Out of the blue, a burning pang of yearning for old Yamazaki swept over him. Yamazaki had always really listened. Akihito closed his eyes for a moment.

Everone has something to give, and you make them happy by taking.

Akihito shook himself. Determinedly, he shoved together some printouts and plopped down on a sofa corner, waving at Kirishima to sit down, too. The scientist nodded in a friendly manner, but continued to hover, pacing a bit, humming. Akihito doubted he had ever used any of the sitting facilities in this sediment-layered room for their actual purpose.

He decided that short of a sedating gun, which, alas, he didn’t have, he wouldn’t be able to calm his friend down, so he shrugged off the old army rucksack he’d been wearing, settling it onto his lap.

At least the other hippy watched closely as Akihito drew out a non-transparent plastic bag, sealed with tape. Kirishima promptly handed him the old scalpel he used as a paper knife, and Akihito slit open the tape, proceeding to draw three objects out of the bag, handling them as if they were radioactive.

One of the sofa tables provided a fairly plane surface of text paper stacks, and he spread out his prizes, carefully, as if they might explode.

“Gone terrorist, darling? Brought me a letter bomb?”, the hippy scientist giggled (he must have been generously sampling from what he had offered, Akihito observed, exasperated), but he surveyed the objects with some respect now: a test-tube, containing a cotton-swab; a small, see-through plastic envelope which seemed to be empty; and third, a larger, also translucent plastic bag containing an empty, flower-engraved water glass.

“You don’t know how spot on you might be”, Akihito muttered under his breath, “a letter bomb might be nothing, if I’m right about this…”

He spoke out loud.

“In this envelope - you’ll find a hair. - And from this water glass a person has drunken, there should be, I don’t know how you call it, stuff from his mouth on the rim.”

“Now that’s very entertaining”, the doctor chuckled, clearly drifting off again, “reminds me of a fairy tale: ‘who drank from my glass … who slept in my bed’ - how did that go again? And what’s on the swab? Don’t tell me the stuff they make dreams of …”, he peeled off into another round of silly laughter.

“Not the stuff they make dreams of - the stuff they make babies of.”

This actually brought the older hippy down some. He looked at Akihito, interested.

“Sperm?”

Akihito nodded, slowly.

“I don’t know for sure. It’s what I suspect. Can you find out whether that’s really sperm, on that swab?”

“Sure, love. What’s up? Caught Mr. Super-Potency cheating?”

Akihito bristled.

“You read too many tabloids, and you definitely take too much of your own, um, medicine. No. If you really find sperm, I want to know who it … came from.”

The two hippies looked at each other.

“Is it from the one whose hair this is?”

Akihito held the envelope up to the dim light bulb, making a very long, coiled up, black hair visible against the sparse illumination.

The scientist’s eyes lit up. He almost looked sober.

Akihito pointed towards the other bag.

“Or does it match the man … who drank from this glass …”

***

Taiwan, World War Leader Residence, bathroom of First War Leader

Methodically but absentmindedly lathering his face with shaving cream, First War Leader Yoh was trying to assess the impact of his infamous stare when experienced out of the perspective of a quailing recipient.

In part, the effect was a deliberate one, one he’d made an effort to perfect. It had certainly helped him on his way further up from the streets of working class Kaohsiung, where he’d started out on the docks, as a teenager.

At some point though, his prized facial expression might have become too much of a good thing.

Might intimidate, where he merely sought to gain respect.

Little Tao, though, didn’t seem to think so!

Yoh smiled when he remembered encountering the two at the Fragrant Harbour Gala. Tao had been immensely full of himself at being the only child present and delighted to see him. How the kid had hurled himself at him! It still warmed his heart to think of it. And Fei Long just beyond Tao … so very reserved in contrast.

The entire evening, as always, he had watched Fei Long out of the corner of his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t be so deeply impressed with the counterculture star’s easy savoir faire, knew this had more to do with himself, his own past. Which he had no problems whatsoever acknowledging! He was proud of himself, of most of what he’d ever done. A lack of finesse like sometimes not being so sure which fork to use - he even exploited this, a little. It endeared him to the majority. Why should it suddenly haunt him at a time like this?

Ah, now Fei Long had quickly looked away again. How he was taking on that difficult, touchy war leader from the Near East, making him eat out of his perfectly manicured hands. Don’t stare. Tao was making the Near East Warlord chuckle now … alone bringing along a kid to such a top level event! Pretty cool … ah, now he, First World Commander, was adopting the hippy lingo…

That socially self-assured monkey of a militant hippy activist could impossibly be afraid of his stare! Why had he, yet again, hardly graced him with a direct address?

He sometimes wondered what Fei Long remembered from the barricade.

What a disastrous turn it had taken.

The elderly hippy killed, Yamazaki, Takaba’s father substitute and mentor. Yoh hadn’t met Akihito yet, back then. But he’d heard of him, and knew Asami had begun an affair with Second World’s boyish hippy darling. The Commander felt certain his colleague from Tokyo counted the Human Barricade disaster amongst his most painful failures, too.

Yoh didn’t even know of the death when a sense of unease, of dread, made him go on patrol along the rail in person, on a spur of the moment. Such a furious, volatile atmosphere amongst the soldiers … his Fei (when had he begun calling the Hong Kong underground star that?), his Fei in particular always made things extremely difficult for his men.

And he’d come just in time. It wasn’t the first time he saw his greatest opponent, the secret leader of underground resistance, naked. Some years back, they’d both been naked together on a regular basis, in the prison showers.

Again, even in all his frantic worry, he couldn’t help feeling intensely aroused.

Did Fei even recognize him? He didn’t speak, just stared, remaining frozen after they released him of his chains.

Had he ever been completely helpless as a victim before?

In prison he hadn’t remained a victim. Yoh smiled at the memory of his explosive counterattack. The priceless look of mixed amazement and fear in his unfortunate assailants’ faces! He hadn’t needed Yoh’s help against them. It was the knife from the back Yoh fended off, but Fei didn’t seem particularly impressed by either incident, and nobody dared to attack him again.

But here … Yoh knew even the bravest of men could crumble when totally defenceless.

For a moment he thought Fei would die, he was so far gone, and people did die from shock.

The medics arrived, pronouncing him to be physically hardly hurt. In the general commotion and bustle, he could observe Fei begin to move again, slowly, like a somnambulist, reflexively swallowing the hot drink tilted against his bruised lips. Yoh tore himself away, his heart bleeding. He did not want Fei to be aware he had seen him like that. He knew it would deeply hurt his pride.

Ah, both of their pride. Was that the issue? He could have bitten off his tongue at what he’d said at the hospital … and yet …

“Why can’t you be the one?” was what Fei Long had gasped at that adorably impertinent hippy from Tokyo … who was the one, then? His heart gave a painful lurch.

Not Asami. Watching the news made that fairly clear … though perhaps he should give his war leader colleague some notice of his Takaba’s, um, technique when paying sick visits to the infirmed! Now he had to chuckle. What a number.

Well, he’d meet Asami in half an hour. Board meeting of top priority, probably going on all day … he sighed. He didn’t want to see all those top ranking officials. Yearning flooded him … he wanted to see his monkey, as he secretly called his agile activist opponent. He’d laughed out loud that Fei Long had gone on to sell that huge freighter plane, the legendary Antonov, to the Turkish rebels, after the Marmara Village Evacuation. What a resourceful rascal, his enterprising darling…

That night…! He wasn’t entirely certain, even now, Fei was aware it was him that night. But on whatever level, his love had appreciated his presence, all right! What he had done!

Hot tremors rushed over Yoh. Somehow … he knew … Fei Long had never done … that … with anyone else. Of course, he couldn’t have, in a strictly technical sense (oh, he would have to do something about his erection! In twenty minutes the boring old conference would begin) but that wasn’t the point. Physically, Yoh wasn’t quite as inexperienced as rumours would have him. Emotionally, though - that was a completely different matter. And yet, in his heart, he felt sure … this moment of union was a first for them both.

He’d been so panicked he was hurting his love. But there was no stopping Fei … what a wildcat … and afterwards, his “patient” hadn’t demanded any more painkillers for the whole rest of the night, smiling blissfully in his sleep. Yoh had never seen him smile like that.

When he took both of his beauty’s hands, and settled down to just look at him, the world wasn’t the same any more. It felt as if they’d been doing this since the dawning of time, and Fei was responding to the pressure of his hands as if it were the most natural thing for him, too.

The sun rose on a man all at once in ecstasy, at peace, and afraid for his love. When you were in love the world was no longer yours alone.

Fei began to twitch, turning his head, his eyelids fluttering. Yoh quietly rose, exhaled a kiss on his hair and left the room. His love should decide for himself when he wanted to wake up next to him.

It was impossible, though, to stay away long.

What a view when he returned later that morning! He wondered why he felt so little jealousy. Possibly because Fei was so different, so casual, with Akihito. Not passionate, wild, afraid even, as with Yoh.

Before drawing attention to himself he tried to make sure, by daylight, Fei hadn’t been harmed by their activity. The wound seemed fine … though really, the light might be clearer, but not his state of mind when he anxiously scrutinized his beauty. The bandage was obviously not torn away in a frenzy by Fei himself, this time. Akihito must have carefully taken it off.

Yoh hadn’t seen Fei again, after he fainted … that very night Fei Long returned to Hong Kong.

***

Tokyo, in-scene pub “Viewfinder Revisited”

“Earth to Akihito!”

Hands were waving in front of his face.

“He’s not reacting, Kou! Has he done anything we should know about? Perhaps we should, you know, pump out his stomach, maybe have his blood washed … maybe it isn’t too late yet! Some counter poison?””

“I know - let’s take his beer away! Always works. … No.”

Yoh … Yoh! What have you done

Akihito cowered at the crowded corner table of the “Viewfinder Revisited”, his beer going stale in front of him, burying his face in his hands.

Have you raped your great love, endangered his life, even … forcing him so soon after the operation?

The telephone call by Kirishima was still ringing in his ears …

“You want to know if the material on the swab is … sperm?”

Was the static acting up? The call sounded so strange. Or was it just him, not wanting to know the truth?

“ Mainly … it is sperm.”

“„And … who’s … sperm…?”

“The person who drank from the flowered glass … it’s his.”

“Sure …?”

Maybe Kei’d been too stoned.

“Oh, yes. There was a lot of material - I know you think I was high, but honestly … even on acid I couldn’t have failed…”

Kirishima sounded, for once, completely sober. Sad, too. Even that airhead, who usually avoided politics like the devil did holy water, had to have put two and two together.

“There were also body cells of … the person with the long black hair. Good thing there was a root on that hair! I found enough DNA. - Or was I supposed to tell if the long hair had been poisoned, or had taken drugs in the last years?”

Well … no.

“By the way, Aki, I found some stuff by you, too, tsk tsk! On the glass!”

Akihito started. He felt sure he hadn’t touched the glass when securing it in the clean plastic bag! Oh no …

“From your mouth! Mixed with sperm …”

Akihito frowned, and then understanding dawned … oh, no!

“Ah Kei, forget that…”

“Sperm from the long black hair.”

Akihito felt glad Kei couldn’t see him. Fei’s sperm, and his spittle - on Yoh’s glass - great.

So Yoh hadn’t washed his mouth, couldn’t even have eaten or drunk anything, all day, since kissing Fei Long off his lips. These traces should have been long gone. Hadn’t Yoh even licked his lips? He was extraordinarily controlled, most people wouldn’t have been able to tell how distraught he had been. Or … had that trace, that memory, been so precious to him, that he had savoured it …wow…

“Really Kei - forget about that … it’s not important, I can explain everything” … but please don’t make me…!

“Aaah … relax, you know me, a paradigm of discretion”, Kirishima cackled nervously, but he sounded far from his usual, carefree self.

“Consider the water-glass wrapped up. I’m not quite through with all of the material on swab, though…”

The static acted up again, crackling, making Akihito panic, for a moment, they were being tapped.

“Mind telling me just where, exactly, you took this sample?”

***

4 “ On Another Planet” (~3000)
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