Chase the Morning - Inception 4/4
~~
Koyama woke in a hotel. It was all sleek black lines and chrome with pale colours thrown about by random, like Tron threw up on mod-chic. It seemed very Ryo, with parts of Koyama’s mind tossed in because he couldn’t help it. This was deep in his own sub consciousness, a dreamscape crafted in the depths of his mind.
One by one the others appeared. No one seemed to find it at all strange that one moment he was alone, and the next Ryo was next to him, looking sharp in a grey suit and leaning heavily against Koyama’s arm.
“Why hello there, love.” Koyama grinned and Ryo scowled at him.
“You changed the colours.”
“I didn’t mean too, it’s hard to control this deep.”
“That’s what she said.” Tegoshi said, and he was leaning sitting in one of the posh lounge chairs reading the news paper, he flicked it shut with a practiced flick of his wrist. Koyama had spent the last few weeks watching their employer. The smooth economical movements, every gesture seemed dainty, without waste. What that hid was the fact that there was strength in those movements, a sort of snappiness that belied training of some kind. Judo probably, given the size of him.
Tegoshi was amusing.
Koyama liked amusing. In the immortal words of Lady Gaga, ‘Russian roulette is not the same without a gun.’ It was a pretty good motto as far as life mottos go. Koyama is willing to place his life on red, but he was even better at reading the probabilities, and he knew that it wouldn’t turn up black. This right now was walking the line now; he was the motherfucking man in black right now.
“Koyama.” He wasn’t surprised YamaPi found them; this was the meeting spot after all. “Ryo. You’re looking better Tegoshi.”
“Feeling much better thank you.” Tegoshi tipped his head, and Koyama couldn’t help but think that he was looking quite spry for a man with a hole in his lung.
“How do you want to handle this one?” Koyama asked, he trusted YamaPi, inexplicably. He trusted YamaPi’s reputation, his ability. Of course, he was starting to suspect even Shige could tell that he wasn’t taking what happened to Jin well. Even Koyama with his vast network of shady dealings and people in high and low places wasn’t exactly sure what the hell had happened to Jin.
“Well, I’m going to tell him. Like in the Albany job.”
“But that job failed.” Ryo shook his head. “He shot me in the face.”
“To be fair, a lot of people end up shooting you in the face.” Koyama grinned because Ryo got this sort of look on his face, like he was trying hard to be annoyed but it wasn’t working. He’d run all the way around the globe the first time Ryo looked at him like that-he’d run so far and so fast that it was like out of a Bug Bunny short. Still that’s the thing about infinite lines, you find they loop around some time, and as he skipped across the globe seducing heiresses and taking what he wanted. He’d ended up back at the beginning.
Right back with Ryo grinning at him loose and happy, and well there is always the chance that Koyama is going to die during this mission and would tie up his commitment issues nicely.
“Shut up.” Ryo shoved his shoulder gently.
“It will work this time. Just watch me. The number Yokoyama gave us last time was 71895, Ryo, go, find Massu on 618, meet us at 718 after.”
“Be careful.” Ryo frowned. “Koyama.” He hissed when YamaPi nodded, “I mean it, you’re the dreamer.”
“I’ll be fine.” As charming as Ryo’s concern for him was, Koyama didn’t need it.
Tegoshi set off with Ryo, moving towards the bank of elevators. One moment Koyama was himself, and the next he was a willowy blond with the most perfect rack he’d ever seen. Her name was Sophie, and she was a mix of his favourite parts of a few past girlfriends pasted on the body of a pin-up girl. The legs were his sister’s (she’s a lot like him, tall and thin, but with a tragically flat chest which had never looked better after the birth of her second child.)
It’s sort of a ‘woman in the red dress’ thing.
“Go on then.” YamaPi smiled, letting his eyes rove and linger over the various and subtle rolls and curves in Koyama’s super model body.
Walking in heels wasn’t hard, all it took was knowing where your center of gravity was, and just how to roll your toes to get the most attractive clicking sound. No man could stand up to the soft sway-click of a killer pair of stilettos. Even the most powerful men were slaves to their dicks in one way or another. Koyama specialized in knowing exactly how to exploit that, it was one of the first things his mother had taught him and his sister.
Yokoyama was no different. Koyama has spent a great deal of time around him and Subaru, but his face was different now, sweetly soft and heart shaped in a strappy jewel-tone purple dress. Yokoyama was clearly trying to be a gentleman, and not stare, but Koyama was good at what he did.
“Yokoyama is it? Room 718?” He placed his hand on bar where the other man was sitting, leaning in, and watching his nostrils flare slightly with the soft perfume he’d put on Sophie. Building a person is about the details, the way they tip their head when asking a question, the resting position of the mouth (Ryo’s naturally frown-y but Tegoshi has a slight tilt to his mouth that looks more like a smile).
“Sorry, what. Have we met?” Yoko was obviously trying not to trace the lines of his neck with his eyes.
“I’m in the room across from you.” Koyama smiled, adding just the hints of a pout around the edges and watched Yoko topple like a tower.
He spent a few minutes innocently flirting, dropping hints that the people downstairs watched really explosive movies, and Yokoyama would nod, the suggestions turning into fact in his mind.
“Hey, maybe we can get together later.” He pulled a card key out of his purse and made a show of leaning over to drop it in Yokoyama’s pocket.
What Yokoyama was too busy staring down his shirt to notice was the way he lifted his wallet. It would give YamaPi a good opening. The key to a good lift was too never look like you were lifting, so he smiled, slow and sexy, like a centerfold and sashayed out of the small lounge. He kept moving towards the bank of elevators, the careful click-click of his heels even across the expanse of the lounge.
The world suddenly shivered, like something had grabbed the building and shook it, Godzilla reining his rage on Tokyo. Suddenly it began to rain outside, water pouring down from the heavens despite the gleaming sunlight. It felt real, he could feel the shift of gravity against his feet and just barely managed not to stumble the projections paused, as if they too had some capacity to feel the shifts.
The receptionist stared at him, blue eyes digging into him, and he was almost at the elevators. He smiled a little at her and she looked back down at her computer. That was scary fast. YamaPi would be there, calling Yokoyama’s attention to the weirdness of the dream, the differences, the ‘how did you get here?’ conversation. When the doors closed Koyama actually breathed a sigh of relief, letting his shape melt back into his own.
He flicked open the lifted wallet, made from hard leather - expensive looking, and poked around inside. His fingers slipped around the worn edges of a photograph, Yokoyama small, young and chubby-faced standing in front of a shrine with an ice cream cone and his smile was wide and sweet in the way that only children have, because they haven’t learned that it looks stupid yet. Koyama traced the edges of his face in the photo graph and flipped it over; on the back in spidery handwriting was ‘went with Dad to see Grandpa. Japan is beautiful.’ Sometime between then and now things had changed. It was a good omen, or Koyama hoped.
’When he was dying, he made time to tell me one last thing- that he was disappointed in me.’
’Fuck man.’ He’d said back, staring at Yokoyama wide eyed. ’You know he always had an odd way of showing his affection.’
You didn’t need Koyama’s degree in psychology (he’d even done a year of clinical under a fake name before that got boring) to see that this was hurting Yokoyama. Something huge and painful. The elevator dinged, and a rather large man was waiting just on the other side, dressed like some mafia-movie extra. Koyama decided to name him Thug #2, he smiled politely tipped his head and strode down the hall. Thug #2 wasn’t too subtle in following him.
He turned the corner really quick, and wasn’t quiet about dropping the stolen wallet down the laundry chute, which would distract his tail long enough for Koyama to reach the stairs.
“In here.” And he was being hauled into a room. Koyama managed not to squeak, or elbow whoever was gripping his arm tight, because he could recognize Ryo’s growl anywhere. “Hush.” He managed to catch the door before it slammed shut and alerted Thug #2 to exactly which room they were hiding in. He had been behind Koyama and he might have seen the movement. He could only wait and hope they could kill him quietly.
The door didn’t open, but Ryo was there, pressed against his back, all heat and the slightly spicy smell of the aftershave he wore when social niceties demanded he get dressed. Koyama knew from one incredibly lazy vacation in Mexico that Ryo loved nothing more than to laze about naked basking in the sunlight and strumming out surprisingly good melodies on his guitar. Hot sun and the laziest of kisses, Ryo’s tongue working to taste the furthest corners of his mouth.
“Why is Subaru on the bed?” Koyama blinked, and Subaru was there unconscious with Thug #1 (Koyama was willing to bet he’d meet #3 at some point), Massu was sitting cross-legged on the other end, toying with a remote detonator.
Massu was staring at him and Ryo and something in his chest shivered. Massu was ... intense. It was exactly what Koyama had expected; it had been better and brighter, and possibly ruined him for anyone else, at least until the bruises healed and his mouth stopped feeling so full when he thought about it. But Massu really would be better for Ryo-- Ryo was bright and shiny, but he needed someone, like a dog he was never really happy when he was alone. Massu saw something in that, that much was obvious. They’d be beautiful together, perfect (and if Koyama had test ridden them, well who’s to know?) A real-life modern day Bonnie and Clyde.
“He was snooping around, so I took him down.” Massu finished fiddling with the detonator. Tegoshi was sitting on the chair looking weak, and there was a smudge of blood on his chin. Going down was helping, but it wasn’t going to save him if they didn’t work fast. Don’t kill the bank roll was one of the first tenants of a good heist. This job was turning into such a cock-up.
“It’s a bit of a hot mess isn’t it?” Ryo said, leaning obviously into his space and Koyama knew better than to flick his eyes at Massu, as much as he wanted to know his reaction to this. He held still-- he’d been avoiding Ryo this whole damn mission. “If I die, it’s not going to be without telling you what a fucker you are.” Ryo whispered against his hair.
Koyama laughed.
He pressed his face against Ryo’s hair, leaning back against him slightly. Well, if they were going to die might as well. “Well. Now I know, thank you.”
Koyama’s sister’s husband went away five years for her. “Can we talk when all this is over?”
“Yeah.” Koyama lied through his teeth. He was on the first plane to Africa after this. Africa was big, Ryo would never find him there. He’d make friends with lions and zebras and steer clear of honey badgers. It’d be a good time. There he wouldn’t need to worry about that look on Ryo’s face.
“I mean it, Koyama.” Ryo’s fingers were digging into his elbow. “You can’t just keep running.”
“Watch me.”
Whatever Ryo was going to say back was swallowed by YamaPi crashing through the door tossing Yokoyama ahead of him. They were both dishevelled like they had been in a fight and YamaPi was looking distinctly like he’d lost that fight, lip split and swelling.
“Subaru!” Yokoyama was staring at his unconscious body, the open PASIV device on the bed. “What are you doing?”
He pointed his gun at Massu who tensed, and Ryo stepped between them calmly hands raised and palms out, with more balls then any architect should have.
“He was trying to break into your mind.” YamaPi said, putting his hand on Yokoyama’s wrist and making him lower the gun.
“These are my team.”
“Subaru?” Yokoyama looked up, and his face was drawn, mixed anger and creeping fear. Yokoyama would never be as ruthless as Tegoshi. They were probably helping him.
“We caught him. They were going to steal something from your mind.”
“What?” Yokoyama looked overwhelmed, and YamaPi pressed his advantage, no one else dared to move, collectively holding their breath. “Do you know what he was looking for?”
“No.”
“We’ll need to go down after him, find out what he was looking for.”
“O-okay.” Yokoyama nodded, puffing out his chest. Massu buzzed around, sedating Yokoyama first and lying him out on the floor. Tegoshi next, he slipped under looking relieved.
“You’re using him to break into his own mind?” Koyama asked, and YamaPi gave him a quirking little half smile. “That’s kind of sick.”
“I thought you’d approve.”
“Koyama.” It was Massu talking with him, giving him a long look. “Be careful, they are going to run you down hard.”
“Then I will lead them on a merry chase.” Koyama said with all the confidence he possessed.
“Don’t fuck it up.” Ryo kissed him hard and fast and Koyama slid the needle into the crook of his arm, and Ryo thankfully dropped off. Koyama didn’t smooth his hair even if there was a small tender part of him that wanted to.
“I think that there is something you’re not telling me.” Massu sighed.
“True. There are a lot of things I’ve never told you.” Koyama grinned at him. YamaPi sedated himself, probably eager to be gone from this conversation. “But you’ve never asked.”
“And if I did?”
“I’d probably not tell you.” Koyama agreed. “Ask Ryo. Later.”
Koyama busied himself with starting the flow to Ryo first so he could construct the dream, and let the others into it. Outside the sun had set and there was nothing but inky blackness outside the windows. The projections would be coming for him and he would need to lead them away. Or else there was no hope for any of them.
Surrounded by sleeping bodies Koyama stood and said under his breath, “sweet dreams.” This wasn’t the time for dawdling.
~~
The light over the edges of the snowy mountains was tinged with pink of the on-coming dawn and the air was sharp and cold against his face. Tegoshi and Yokoyama would be heading towards the complex he could see through his binoculars perched on top of the hill. Massu would go with them until they hit the outer walls of the compound where all the projections would be, then he’d be bait.
Ryo wasn’t worried about Massu-- he was one bad-ass mother fucker all on his own. Like Master Chief with cuter cheeks. Well that is what Ryo told himself anyways; it wasn’t that he doubted Massu, it was the five against five-hundred odds that had him on edge. He’d been spinning, fish-tailing, travelling the world and trying to find his way for too long. This was something interesting, if they did this they would be the first and maybe that would help YamaPi get over Jin.
“Let’s move.” YamaPi looked at him and Ryo nodded.
When they were together Koyama never said anything about Ryo’s tendency to drop everything for YamaPi, but Ryo was more than enough aware for the both of them. You didn’t leave your mates behind, no matter what. He couldn’t explain it, just that YamaPi needed him and he was willing to do anything for him.
Would have done anything for Jin too.
Jin had been something else, a star fallen to earth, unable to understand why everyone else was moving so slowly. Him and YamaPi had pulled some of the most ridiculous shit, and Ryo had once seen Jin shoplift a fucking canoe like it was no-body’s business. Ryo missed him like a sharp and bright pain. Koyama reminded him a lot of Jin, something fierce, but Koyama was more tempered, holding the mask of being just another human being over his demons.
Jin used to walk his fingers down his arms, like they were little people and whisper in Ryo’s ear (he was too blazed to remember it and Ryo was only just a step behind him, but his memory wasn’t the type to let things go) ‘I’m no good for you. Bad news baby, I can’t be what you want.’ At which point he started humming ‘Bad Company’ and used Ryo’s arm as a pillow to look at the stars. They were on a beach somewhere in France and nothing else mattered but the stars and the water and the humid nights, and the fact that YamaPi had wandered away to find munchies and hopefully he’d be back soon.
It was so completely different than the snowy mountain scene at dawn that was playing out now.
“Do you think Massu is okay?” Ryo asked. They were climbing down a sheer face that was actually one of the walls of the maze, blending in seamlessly with the rest of the design.
“He can handle himself.”
“I know.” Ryo rolled his shoulders, shrug too hard to tell under the huge fluffy coat he was wearing. Still, Koyama was a level up in a hotel full of projections with the goal of ripping him limb from limb, and Massu was going to dangle himself like cute bait in front of the bad guys.
“He’s like... James Bond.” YamaPi nodded.
“More like Master Chief.”
“Who?” YamaPi turned to him, then dropped a few feet, letting the line out. They were almost at the bottom now.
“You really need to play more xbox with me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” YamaPi hit the ground, sinking up to his knees in the powdery snow. They were coming up on the other side of the compound. Tegoshi would lead Yokoyama inside and Ryo would circle round to take care of anyone that might get in their way.
They waded through the snow until it evened out, dawn stretching into morning.
“Do you hear that?” Massu’s voice was small and tinny through the ear-piece, Ryo cocked his head. It sounded like the wind was whistling over the trees. He listened harder, and it defiantly had a soft melody.
“I think it’s the countdown to the kick.” Massu said. “It’s early, something must have happened to Shige.”
“Hurry.” Ryo hissed into the line.
“Did you build any short-cuts in?” YamaPi looked at him and Ryo nodded.
Ryo told Tegoshi which way to go in, a side entrance that could be blown open-- it would mean that they would make it to the vault-room faster than Ryo would. But they needed to get there in time to give Koyama time to set off the kick. If the van drove off the bridge but they were not awake in the hotel, then they would be in freefall and it would be impossible for Koyama to drop them.
“Ryo.” They were getting close to the place that YamaPi would set up as a roost, use it as a place to watch the progress and snipe anything that came too close. “Ryo, I need to tell you something.”
“What.” There was the echoing sound of gunfire, thrown around by the mountains so many times that it was impossible to pinpoint the source. That would be Massu now. He couldn’t help the curl of anxiety in his stomach. Emotions made him tetchy.
In the hotel there had been a moment, watching Massu calmly and carefully checking his gun. Koyama used to tease him about his ‘crush’ on the other man. It wasn’t a crush, it was a professional respect. Well it had started out that way. But it hadn’t ever gotten very far; Massu wasn’t the type to mess about.
Right before this job he and Koyama had been on some sort of edge. Either Koyama was going to break and he’d never see him again or Ryo was going to give up on the tall man. He wasn’t supposed to hold stars. Of course Koyama had been nothing but cordial through the entire planning process, made easy by the fact that he wasn’t too often required at their head quarters, occasionally breezing in with coffee made just the way Ryo liked it.
Of course Koyama knew how everyone took their coffee. It was just what he did.
That night he had come in to make sure that YamaPi left, after the scene on the roof he was worried. What could he do when YamaPi wouldn’t listen, Koyama was ignoring him, and then he had seen Massu sitting there all hooked up and vulnerable.
He hadn’t been entirely sure what made him want to see what the inside of the Massu’s head. Curiosity mostly; Massu didn’t fuck around, he wasn’t quiet per say, but he also wasn’t overly fond of getting into trash-talking battles and shooting the shit about celebrities or anything that Ryo knew how to approach. He shouldn’t have been so surprised that inside Massu’s head was sunny. He was surprised to come in to find himself face to face with Massu’s projection of him. Probably the only time he’d get to pistol-whip himself. (Dreaming was always a journey in self-discovery.)
“This isn’t the first time I’ve been this deep.” Ryo gave him a long look, this was the first he’d heard of this. “Me and Jin, we were just dicking around.” He wasn’t surprised at all. “We went as far as we could go- Jin said he wanted to push the sky.”
“And?”
“I think he’s still here.”
“That’s impossible.” Jin was almost technically brain-dead, hooked up to a small army of machines, like something out of a bad sci-fi movie. Beeping in time and keeping his lungs moving and his heart beating. The small sparks of brain activity kept them from pulling the plug, but he was essentially a princess in a white castle for all they could get to him.
“The cords were pulled, I woke up but he didn’t.”
“No. That’s impossible.”
“How the fuck do you know what’s possible? He can’t be gone; he’s here.” YamaPi shook his head. “I see him sometimes.”
“It’s a projection, YamaPi,” Ryo’s heart twisted funny, he missed Jin too, but it wasn’t the same clearly, “not real.”
“But he might be. He hit me with a car, on the first level. He’s been fucking with the jobs.” Well hitting someone with a car was a very Jin thing to do, but that is why they are projections of a person, like an outline projected on a wall and filled in like a four year old with a crayon.
“And you didn’t think this was important enough to share?”
“I just thought I was going crazy.”
“You are going crazy.” He couldn’t even stop to properly vent his anger at YamaPi, the other man still moving towards the hill where he would be waiting.
“Just.” YamaPi shook his head and nodded down the slope where Ryo would need to skid, to the back of the compound. Sneaky fucker. “Be careful. This is the hard part.”
Great, now Ryo was worried about KoyamaMassuYamaPi, as he ungracefully made his way down the steep incline, snow catching his boots and threatening to send him ass over end, all the way down. Drawing his hand gun he moved towards the rather conspicuous fortress that he’d dreamed up right in the middle of the snowy vale.
Usually his dreams were cloudy, the bright sun was a bit of a throw-off, but Ryo had never had to build three levels down before. They were flirting with the edges of limbo here. God knew what kind of strangeness lived here. Sure, the cold felt real enough, wind nipping at the thinness of his gloves. Ryo stuck to cover as he flitted his way to the base. Breathing evening out as he imagined himself hitting a groove, pushing all the unimportant things from his mind.
There was a lone guard down the corridor (bland grey cinderblock, a mini-maze in itself, but Tegoshi and Yokoyama would be cutting through to the end). Ryo gripped his gun, checked the silencer quickly --he wasn’t sneaking up on shit with huge winter boots. Three shots, clustered around his chest and the man went down, crumpling between one startled gasp and the next.
The journey across the compound was a blur of sneaking down corridors, sticking to the walls and peeking around corners, like a spy. He was planting the charges at the base of the tower under the vault room when one of the guards grabbed his shoulder and yanked hard. Years of being the smallest kid in the class, and subsequently years of martial arts training, had him slamming his elbow into his attacker’s face before he could grab at Ryo’s hands.
He staggered backwards, blood dripping from his nose onto his black uniform. He must have been at least twice Ryo’s size, but those were his favourite odds. They were often slow, and sort of stupid and there was nothing like the rush when he grabbed the arm swung at him, used it to flip the man over his back, his momentum carrying him in a neat little arch over Ryo’s hips. He slammed into the ground-hard. There was a stunned moment when the man was looking up at him, and his eyes were dark brown, mouth smeared with blood, nose bright red where Ryo had broken it. Ryo drew his gun quickly and put two in his chest before he could do more than gasp for breath. He died staring sightlessly up at Ryo.
“Bang bang, mother fucker.” He muttered to himself.
Rolling his shoulders, Ryo finished setting the charges, running the wires to each other and twisting the exposed ends together. The remote detonator was in his bag, the whole thing was set up so when the support pillar blew it would drop the vault room and they would all be kicked back up to the hotel.
Ryo circled around the long way up to the vault, picking off the occasional grunt, leaving a messy trail of bodies in his wake, slumped against the walls or corners. He was making good time, and was verging on ‘cautiously optimistic’-- he was almost able to believe they were not all going to die. Assuming Koyama could think of something fast enough, and Shige wasn’t dead somewhere, brain already rotted away completely by limbo.
The scene in the vault room brought that tiny flicker of hope crashing to the ground. Burnt up and just gone.
“Pity.” He said, staring at Yokoyama’s body. Massu had clawed his jacket off, and the defibrillator buzzed, completely forgotten. Tegoshi was slumped against the walls, eyes open and glassy like a doll. Obviously dead, or just on the verge of. The last corpse was Jin’s lying crumpled, with a series of bullets in his chest; YamaPi was kneeling next to his body, looking distraught, he must have followed Ryo and come up through the short cut while Ryo was planting the charges. “I really thought we had it.”
He wasn’t sure where to start. Any second the music would start up indicating that Koyama was going to kick them all up.
“No.” Massu put the defibrillator down, looking determined. “This isn’t the end.”
He pulled a PASIV out of the med kit (hastily dreamed up, but in perfect working order, Massu was nothing but perfect always.)
“What are you going to do-he’s gone.”
“I’m going to go get him.” Massu looked up at him, as if daring him to object and Ryo wanted too, it was too dangerous, and he had no idea what was down there. But YamaPi did. “You take the defib, it should help jolt him back up.”
“We can’t leave Tegoshi down there.” YamaPi stood, leaving Jin’s crumpled form. “I’m going with you.”
“Whatever, there isn’t a lot of time.”
YamaPi went under first, leaving Ryo alone with Massu and the various bodies spread around, slowly cooling in the crisp air.
“Take care of him, for me?” Ryo may have pressed closer than needed and Massu stared at him, wide eyes and mouth set in a tight line. He looked determined, and really fucking hot. “When we’re out, I should probably tell you about my day dreams.” He said, words tumbling out of his mouth before he really knew what he was going to say.
“What-“ Ryo cut him off by pressing the button that flooded him with sedative and somnacin. He tucked his gun back into his holster and readied himself to zap Yokoyama back into life and kill all the sons of bitches who dared to try and stop him.
~~
They washed up on the shore of a city. The beach was narrow, gritty fine sand sticking between his fingers, jeans heavy with water and the surf lapping at his legs. Massu coughed and pushed himself up; looking around for YamaPi who was lying on his back, eyes closed, doing his best imitation of flotsam.
Massu threw a handful of sand at his chest and YamaPi came awake with a jerk, sputtering.
“So this is limbo?” His voice croaked over the words. The buildings reached for the sky like hands all shoving and pushing at the searing blue. There wasn’t a single cloud around, and the sun was so bright it almost cut off the edges of the buildings. Like this was pinnacle of something.
“Yes. Mine, and Jin’s.”
Massu ran his fingers through his wet hair and staggered to his feet, orange cons digging into the loose sand and making it hard for him to walk to where the sand was blown over black tarmac. YamaPi right behind him.
“We built this world.” YamaPi said, shaking off the rest of the sand. “It was the last place I saw him. He’s probably got Yokoyama.”
If he’d had more time he probably would have had a few words for YamaPi, letting personal shit in like that. But Massu was more annoyed with himself for not picking up on it earlier. He was the point man; he was supposed to be on top of everything. Research and HR were his job (well as much HR as being a mind-thief requires) and he’d seriously fumbled the ball on this one.
So much for being the best of the best.
“So where did he take him?”
“This way.” YamaPi nodded, and there was one building, seemingly made of mirrors that made it almost painful to look at, and speared up into the sky. “That was his favourite. There is a little garden on the top, and we’ll find him there.”
Massu nodded, checking his gun as they walked, remarkably it seemed dry. Or maybe that was just him. Ryo’s face as he told him to take care of YamaPi, it had been heart-breaking. Massu wasn’t used to people being so open. Koyama was completely shut, and that just pissed him off, made him want to break him wide, but Ryo was already there, black eyes giving away more then was safe.
Of course the whole situation between the two of them looked remarkably like a mine-field, and if he was smart he’d stay away. Far away. There would be others.
“Why does Ryo follow you?” The words were out of his mouth before he could think too hard on them. YamaPi looked at him over his shoulder, wandering around an abandoned hotdog cart.
“I don’t know, because he doesn’t like being alone I guess. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. I’m walking the deepest parts of your mind, and you have not even bought me dinner yet.”
“In that case shouldn’t you owe me dinner?” YamaPi snorted, and he was really quite pretty when he smiled.
“It’s your boyfriend’s fault we’re down here.” Massu said and YamaPi smiled.
“Jin’s not my boyfriend.”
“Life-partner, whatever.” He was mostly curious about Ryo. Maybe if he could understand the mine-field, he would be able to avoid it better.
“Jin was my best friend.” YamaPi shrugged, but didn’t seem inclined to comment further. “I guess Ryo feels bad. He was out chasing tail when it happened. Now I can’t get him to stop following me. I’m not sure if it’s because Koyama refuses to slow down for him, or if he’s just worried about me.”
Ah, something else he should have picked up on. That was his job. He could see how you could get addicted to Koyama, he was always just what you wanted; charming or cold-fake, fake, fake.
“In here.” There was a long glass walkway into the foyer of the building. The whole thing had an apocalyptic vibe, nothing moved, no shy wind, no people milling about like you would expect out of a crowded city center.
“Anyways, without Jin.” YamaPi paused, pressing the call button for the elevator, their steps echoing in the cavernous room. “I don’t think I will do this anymore.”
“What are you going to do? Go back to that filthy jungle where I found you?” He couldn’t keep the disgust out of his voice.
“Probably.” YamaPi shrugged. Massu wondered if Ryo had pointed out that there was possibly more than a little ‘friendship’ going on here and if YamaPi really was as dumb as he sounded right now.
“What will Ryo do? He doesn’t seem the type to hole up in the jungle.”
“I really don’t care; he can do whatever he wants.” YamaPi sighed and leaned against the wall of the elevator, as it pulled them up through the floors, the numbers flashing past as they ascended.
The roof had a small garden on it --the iron arch-way said ‘Eden’ on it-- and Massu pulled out his gun, sticking to the blissfully cool shadows, as he moved. YamaPi just walked straight.
“Jin!” He called and for a moment there was silence.
“Marco!” Came a high voice back and YamaPi took the left fork in the path.
There was a small clearing, and Jin sat feet dangled over the edge, Yokoyama tied up on a bench, hands all tangled behind his back with red nylon rope.
“Finally you’ve come.” Jin smiled at him, the edges of his curly hair touching his face. “I’ve been waiting a really long time now. That wasn’t very nice of you, Tomo.”
“I’m here now. Let the boy go.”
“Whatever, he’s boring anyways. He doesn’t know how to fly, not like you do.”
“Massu, take him and go.” The sound of thunder rumbling in the distance almost ate the last half of his words. “That will be the kick now.”
“YamaPi.” Strained, the word bitten out because he couldn’t be sure that YamaPi wasn’t just going to stay here with Jin.
“Just go.”
“Stay, with me, this is what we always wanted.” Jin threw his arms wide, and their world gleamed so painfully sharp. Massu grit his teeth, but was manhandling a dazed Yokoyama over to the edge, Yokoyama was panicking, resisting, but Massu was determined and you didn’t fuck with him when he was determined. He fell for what seemed like ever. Behind him Jin and YamaPi were still talking.
“I’ve missed you.”
“Of course you have, but I knew you would come back.” Massu looked over the edge, looked back at the other two. “Now we’ve finally broke it, complete freedom.”
Massu pulled the trigger, a sharp breath, keeping the kick from throwing off his aim. Jin stumbled, holding his chest and YamaPi ran towards him.
“Ryo told me to take care of you. And I will.” Massu snarled and YamaPi stared at him. Eyes wide. “He’s just a projection, this isn’t real.”
YamaPi looked lost and Massu was going march over there and bodily toss him over the edge if he needed too. “You know I’m right.”
“Yeah. No I know.” YamaPi smiled at Jin, soft and tender and stupid the way that love makes people. “Jin was so much more than this. Massu, you need to go.”
“YamaPi.” He barked.
“No listen. I can find Tegoshi, he’s down here. You need to go back and make sure the mission ends. Ryo’s waiting for you.”
“No, he’s waiting for you.” Massu reminded him.
Massu let himself fall backwards over the edge, the wind ripping through his t-shirt, and waited to hit the ground.
~~
Massu woke up on the cold floor; he could see Yokoyama holding his father’s hand, with the most wretched look on his face. Where he had earlier been punched in the shoulder hurt like a bitch, and his whole body felt sore from the desperate flight from the projections on the sled, but that didn’t mean he was really awake. Pain was in the mind, you could feel pain in the dream.
Ryo was looking at him, “time to go.” Music was reaching a crescendo, coming from everywhere at once.
The sound of explosion ripped through the complex and the ground under him was breaking and cracking and falling, his gloves desperately trying to find purchase on the smooth cement floor, tangling in the PASIV leads, and the heavy lethargic feeling in his limbs.
Massu was falling again, more sound tearing through his mind, and everything was sliding down, the support pillar reduced to so much rubble by Ryo’s carefully planted charges. Massu didn’t have time to look to see if YamaPi was awake or not. Just Ryo braced over him, the next shake throwing his body like a rag doll and that was all Massu knew.
~~
Inexplicably he was in an elevator, and Koyama was curled in the corner, he was pressed tight against the roof of the elevator, feeling his stomach twist with the Gs holding him pinned to the spot. Massu imagined that the ground was rushing up to greet them hard, and the music for the kick was playing loud all around him, drowning out the screaming of metal on metal. They were in the elevator falling to the ground Koyama had figured something out even without the help of gravity to drop them.
He had enough time to notice all this, and only this before they hit the end and the ground rushed up too fast to see and that was it.
~~
The van hit the water with a great splash, water flooding in through the broken wind shield, quickly soaking his feet, and all the way up to his ankles. It flooded the whole cab and Massu stabbed at the release for his seatbelt, water moving quickly over his mouth, and up to his eyeballs.
The compressed gas breather was under his seat and he put it in his mouth, forcing himself to breath normally. He could see Ryo pushing himself out of his seat, or the bubbles he made as he did so. He pushed off, and sailed out the ruined windshield.
Washing up on shore felt a lot like limbo, but the city around them was too soft, built of a thousand stories, not just two. Ryo hauled himself out of the water next to him, looking skinny and wet. They could just see the two specks that were Koyama-Subaru and Yokoyama pulling themselves up on the opposite shore.
“Is this a bad time to confess how much I want to fuck you?” Ryo said, coughing on the water that gotten in his lungs. Shige was lying in an exhausted heap on the rock, ignoring them completely.
“Yeah. Probably.” Massu grinned.
~~
Massu woke up on the air plane. He came awake quickly, feeling the plane dip and shake with turbulence. He shook his head. The colours here didn’t seem bright enough, the beige of the seats and the bland off-white of the overhead compartments. Outside the window was nothing but dark and sea, too black for him to see through.
Koyama was staring at him, mouth curled in a little line, unreadable. When their eyes met, Koyama looked away first, quickly taking the needle out of his arm, tearing away the butterfly bandage used to hold it in place.
Ryo was extremely pale, and for a moment Massu thought he would be sick right then and there. Massu began to clean the leads on autopilot. Shige was curled into his seat, looking really unhappy with them, hands pulled close to his chest. YamaPi was still asleep, and Yokoyama was sedated enough that he was going to be sleeping for awhile yet, but he wasn’t hooked up to the dream. All that was left for him was to see if it had worked, if they had fixed his problems with his father, hopefully some of his self esteem issues and eased Tegoshi’s market by destroying his competitor into wee tiny pieces.
Assuming YamaPi found Tegoshi and they could find their way back. The flight attendant had helpfully gone to get a glass of water for Ryo.
“YamaPi?” Ryo looked at him.
Massu’s heart tightened, threatening to stop altogether when YamaPi’s eyes opened, staring around the cabin like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be here. Massu met his eyes, and for a horrible stretching moment there was nothing there, then he blinked and it was like something flicked on inside him, and he was YamaPi again. Massu couldn’t help the giddy rush of excitement that expanded in his stomach like something alive.
Tegoshi groaned softly, hands scrabbling at his chest as he took great heaving breaths. The flight attendant was there in an instant with a glass of water, a towel and a soothing voice. Massu half-expected his mind to come out completely shattered, liquefied and nothing but gibberish. They all watched as slowly Tegoshi calmed down, nodding blankly at what he was being told.
Massu wondered if his hands stopped shaking any time before they landed. It probably would have completely destroyed a lesser man.
The rest of the flight paled in comparison, sitting there on his laptop clicking away at a game of solitare and making himself not stare at Yokoyama, who was making pensive faces at his blackberry. Only time would tell if they were successful, if they planted the idea deep enough, or reinforced it enough to have it stick. Still it felt like victory, so sharp and bright, like the glitter of sunlight off of snow. He was fucking high with it.
Best of the best.
The plane landed. They went through customs. Massu kept reaching into his pocket and rubbing at the worn edges of his totem like some pervert on a bus. He couldn’t help it, after a trip like that it was easy to get a little lost as far as reality was concerned.
The ride to his hotel passed in an even faster blur, he lost the others sometime between customs and baggage. Shige stood near him for a bit, while YamaPi melted right out of baggage like he had never been there in the first place. There were so many flights coming in international at LAX that he soon lost Koyama and Ryo in the mess that followed when a British Airways flight emptied hundreds of cranky Brits into the customs line. He half figured that they went to men’s room to fuck desperately against the metal dividers. He wasn’t thinking about it. The way Koyama’s lips chased kisses, mouth plush and pink against his face. Or Ryo biting at the length of his neck so fucking happy to have come out alive, it would be rough, clothes just pushed out of the way to expose straining dicks rutting against each other like teenagers and kissing like it was the end of the world. Not. Thinking. About. It. Mine fields and battle fields, and what did they want from him in the first place?
Massu spent the following three days in LA, shopping, looking at the Hollywood sign, and doing dorky guided tours of the houses of the stars. He could afford one of those if he wanted. Live up here with the yuppies in a palace of mortar and stone.
He returned to his hotel with the intention of spending the night in the sinfully huge bathtub and reading. Only to be a little dismayed that someone had broken in while he was gone.
On the end-table near the door was a single card, written in black ink on heavy paper, the handwriting achingly familiar.
‘We need you to help steal the Mona Lisa - Meet me in Paris; you know where, xoxo Koyama’
Massu laughed, and against his better judgement called up the airline to book a ticket on the next flight to France, but he’d stop in Spain first, make them work for it. He was getting sick of American Celebrity culture anyways.
Epilogue:
Massu knew Koyama’s sister was in the next room, but he couldn’t help it. Biting his lip against the throaty moans that he knew wanted to fall from his lips. He couldn’t help it; Ryo was, as always so tight and hot around him, the pointy edges of his shoulder blades digging into Massu’s chest, as he used hands on Ryo’s hips to pull him back against himself. Ryo had nothing against being loud, growling and groaning with each shove, arching his spine shamelessly to get more.
“Fuck yes, just, oh god.” Ryo moaned voice low and strung, too tight. They were not in a position where Massu could fuck him as deep as he wanted; but it was more than enough, pressure and friction on his dick Ryo twisting in his hands like he was going to fly apart.
Massu would bend him right over the edge of the drafting table and fuck him right into the wooden edge until it bruised and Ryo would feel it all the way up his spine. Make him know just who he belonged too-- if that wouldn’t squish Koyama.
Koyama knelt, hands hastily tied behind his back with his own shirt, head tilted in such a way as to open his throat, and Massu could see it in his head, had seen it enough that he knew just the angle of Koyama’s neck, the pleased flush that spread down his chest without needing to actually be able to see it. The look on his face pleased beyond measure, at simply being there, bound because if they let him go he would without a doubt take that as permission to rub himself off, and Massu had plans for him. (Massu had finally asked Ryo ‘how can you tell what Koyama really wants?’ and Ryo had looked at him like he was stupid, which granted maybe this once he was. ‘He wants to be what you want.’ And that had been that.)
Massu reached around Ryo’s hips, rubbing his fingers through Koyama’s hair, fucking Ryo deeper into Koyama’s mouth, listening to the sweet sounds of messy blow jobs and Ryo’s broken cursing.
They had a lot of celebrate, the paper that morning had said ‘YPG: Stocks Plummet as Heir Destroys his Father’s Empire’
And they had plans for stealing the Mona Lisa next weekend.
~~
YamaPi adjusted the leads, the nurse watched him, before leaving him in peace. Hospital chairs were uncomfortable and not meant for real people. YamaPi squirmed, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. He looked across the harshly lit hospital room at Shige was fidgeting with a bunch of small brightly coloured vials.
Jin looked horrible hair lank and greasy against the pristine hospital pillows, his cheeks seemed shallow, or maybe it was the play of fluorescents off his waxy complexion. Either way it made him look like a badly made wax figure of himself, all sharp bones poking out of sagging skin under a hospital gown.
It had taken YamaPi a lot of money and bribing the right people (and one case, blackmailing one who wouldn’t be bribed in Interpol, and really it wasn’t his fault he was enemy of so many) to get this far. His heart thundered loudly in his ears.
“Ready?” Shige offered him the lead.
“Yeah.” YamaPi nodded and Shige inserted the other lead in Jin’s arm, the skin giving way easily to the surgical steel. “I shouldn’t be long, I just need to go get him.”
“Okay.” Shige nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”
He hit the button and YamaPi slipped from one world to the next. He needed to remind Jin what was waiting for him up in the reality. That YamaPi was waiting for him, they still had a lot of sky to push.
~~
Tegoshi sat in his office, the building reaching towards the sky, dwarfing a good many of the buildings around him. He was tempted to invest in having the tallest building around now that his office was in Hong Kong, and what else did you do in Hong Kong but build taller buildings?
The news paper was spread out on his desk, Yokoyama giving the camera a cheeky grin, like he really could give a flying fuck about what the reporters thought about him. It was refreshing. He already had bids lined up for some of the bigger component pieces of the Yokoyama Power Group. They would make a good addition to his dynasty.
He had spent the weeks following the job trying to find his place in reality. But he wasn’t the type to give in to anything, even the niggling suspicion that this world wasn’t real. When YamaPi had washed up on the shore of his own personal hell (limbo) like so much flotsam it had been like seeing a ghost. Only he was the ghost, just a shade of his younger self, no one explained to him just how much faster time moved in limbo, only that one moment in ‘reality’ was an eon when you were trapped in your own mind.
Still, sitting in his office as the sun rose over the Hong Kong sky-line and feeling viciously victorious, he thought about his investments. It was worth it.