[Daffodil Like Yourself] Chapter 3
Jul. 21st, 2019 10:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morphogenesistw: violence, medical experimentation
Chapter Three
Aoi swore his tonsils were covered in mold. The basement was so damp and dark and he couldn’t get the weird taste out of his mouth. His shoulder hurt from his being handcuffed over the pipe of a water heater to his companion. He was sure he was sitting in a damp patch because his scrubs were sticking to his ass. At least he’d been allowed to keep his school uniform the last time he was kidnapped. He had underwear. He didn’t have to deal with Light Field yanking on his arm hard enough to ram his head into the pipe at least three times.
"Oh, I’m sorry. I just needed to stretch," Light said unapologetically. "This pain in my shoulder is unbearable—ugh!" His head smacked into the pipe with a satisfying bang.
"Mine too," Aoi slurred. Light sounded more awake. "What do you remember?" The same thing Aoi did; their argument in Mount Washington and then being kidnapped. Between then and now was muddled.
The way they were cuffed forced them to sit on the floor, pressed to the heater and backs to the concrete wall. The half-window set high in the wall at the far end of the room was dark so he couldn’t tell what time it was, and there was only a single bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. A painful bright red ring around his wrist indicated they'd been that way for some time. When Aoi went to rub his neck with his free hand, he felt tender skin, stitches, and shaved hair. "What the fuck..."
"You only just noticed?" Light covered the back of his neck with his left hand. "It's irritating..."
"I couldn't feel it over you trying to smash my head in."
"I don't know what you're referring to." He sniffed the air. "We're in some sort of basement, correct?"
"Yeah."
Light seemed to wait for him to ask how he knew that, but continued after a beat of silence. "The reek of mold was clue enough, but the footsteps overhead convinced me."
Aoi looked upward, only to find the movement aggravated the stitches. "Do you hear anything now?"
"...They’re walking away from us. Where are the stairs if there are any?"
"Opposite end of the room." He had a memory of the last time they'd been imprisoned, working together in a similar locked room. Focused, on the same team. On the same team now, whether Light believed him. "So—"
Said door opened and heavy steps came toward them. Aoi braced his feet on the floor and tried to push himself up the wall but he didn’t have the strength. Even in the darkness of the room, he'd know that face.
With a cat's smile, Gentarou Hongou approached and pressed a pistol to the center of Aoi's forehead. "I believe you’re Aoi," he said. His suit was so new Aoi could see the origami-tight creases. "I wonder: are you still so cocky at the other end of the barrel?"
Aoi closed his eyes and carefully considered his next words. "Bigger balls than you had—" A hard pistol whip cut Aoi off with a loud smack and the taste of blood as he bit his tongue. Swallowing copper and pain, he spat out, "Are you scared 'cause we ain't kids any—" Crack.
"If you have the advantage, there's no need to restrain us is there?" Light said, shifting slightly away so he tugged on Aoi's arm.
"You’re right about that. You're effectively neutered," Hongou pressed the muzzle to Aoi's lips. "That doesn't mean I've forgotten how you fooled me the first time."
Hongou hadn't been this cocky when Aoi lead him into the desert at gunpoint, made him cuff and gag himself, and left him in the trunk. Only the thought of a gun in his mouth kept Aoi from taunting him with that knowledge. He wouldn't blink, even when Light opened his mouth like an idiot:
"Don’t you want sporting odds?"
"Are you begging?"
"No, I just wanted to prove my suspicion you were still a coward." Another crack; Light exhaled a pained breath.
Aoi debated the merits of trying to punch Light in the balls. He was going to get them killed. "What do you want already?" Aoi said. "He's a jackass but he's not worth your time." Light found the energy to sniff at that. Aoi tried to peer around Hongou and saw they were alone, so he felt confident he could handle the situation. A long time ago, pre-Second Nonary Game, Seven taught him how to get out of zip ties and handcuffs, but not with a gun in his face and someone else's life on the line too. Still, Hongou had stepped close enough for Aoi to strike with his heel and hit him in the knee.
His bad leg jerked painfully, but it was worth it when the other stumbled and grunted—less so when Hongou wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed until he saw black spots. "Keep pressing your luck." He punctuated that by shaking Aoi so hard his head hit the wall once, and then he blacked out.
When Aoi came to his vision swam and his ears rang so violently it was painful, his teeth and jaw locked. But one pain was gone—his left arm was free, the skin and shoulder still burning but no longer restrained. He held it up, dazedly watching the cuffs dangle and rattle softly. “Huh?”
"You're welcome," Light said, standing over him and holding up a tiny pin between two fingers. "I just found this behind the heater and he neglected to buy handcuffs with a double-lock mechanism. It was child's play."
‘Jerk yourself off later,’ Aoi wanted to say, but gurgled instead. He straightened up unaided, so dizzy he wanted to barf, and dragged himself up the wall. "Where?" he got out.
"Not directly above us, at least." Light tilted his head up. "Thank you for playing the fool and angering him. He left after knocking you unconscious and gave me time to free us." Yet he'd left the cuffs on Aoi.
"Let's go," Aoi said, wobbling toward him, but he shook his head.
"He'll be back before we can force the window open—it's painted shut. And I can’t seem to pick the padlock on the door."
"Then look harder genius." Aoi forced himself to walk straight lines, frowning at the damp floor. "Not a locked room without an escape route." He approached the table, finding it covered with neatly organized medical equipment in sterile packaging, although this place didn't look like one for hygienic medical treatment. Aoi touched the base of his head again, feeling that tiny but painful stitched wound. He forgot personal concerns and slipped into the problem solving, single-minded paradigm that kept him alive one long night years ago, and more since. "Get to work—I ain't dying here."
Then he picked up a mallet on the table, walked to the window, and took it to the glass like Hongou had to Aoi’s knuckles fourteen years ago. He focused his efforts on the four corners to weaken it and then kept beating the center until the tiniest crack appeared. Another hit and the glass splintered. One more and a hole opened up.
"Do you think we can fit through that?"
"Shut up and give me that arm. I'm not risking my veins for this."
"It's not a toy."
"How badly do you wanna see Clover again? I just need a hole big enough to—"
Light didn't let him finish speaking before slamming his left fist through it, grimacing as it caught his arm and jerked him forward, but retracted his arm and did it again, opening it wide enough to reach out. "And I suppose I'm also the tool to open said window?" He took Aoi's silence as the answer, and sighed and began searching for a lock or weak place in the frame from the outside while Aoi replaced the mallet with a scalpel to chip away at the paint in hopes of loosening it. "The left side, where the frame meets the stone. It could be pried away with something strong enough."
Aoi considered it doubtfully. He was more likely to open a vein by crawling out the broken window, and even if they could open it, the opening they’d make would be so narrow they’d have to slither through one at a time, and who would go first? Who’s to say he wouldn’t be left behind if the other refused to give him a hand? His hand holding the scalpel burned, weakness making the instrument tremble in his hand, and he looked around for something strong enough to pry open the window. The room was long, narrow, and save the equipment in the corner and a chair, bare.
As his vision blurred, the room lost its edges and he looked into space until Light coughed. “You have five seconds before I escape myself.”
The locked door complained and ground above them, and they both turned their heads. Aoi’s fist clenched around the scalpel. "I need you to keep him talking," he said, before slipping away, sidling behind the stairs and against the wall until he was wedged, pressing his breaths back into his chest. He had a scalpel and desperation against a gun. His whole body hurt and he wanted to puke. It would have to do. From where he hid he could see through a gap in the stairs to watch the scene.
Light turned his head left and right in an owlish fashion, looking irate, but coolness washed over his face as the footsteps shook the stairs above Aoi.
"Don't tell me you two still can't follow simple instructions." Gun raised, Hongou looked side-to-side. "Where's the other one hiding, hm? Tell me and you'll suffer the least."
"You had to chain us up before you felt brave enough to confront us. I'm not afraid of you." Not even a falter in Light’s voice. Aoi tried to breathe steady and silent through his nose. ‘Come on, keep going. Just distract him so I can—’
What Light did was brave, foolish, or both. He stepped forward and grabbed the gun faster than the other could pull it back, and yanked it forward so the muzzle pressed to his forehead. "You hate me so much, shoot me now. See, I'll give you a handicap. I remember you needed those to kill your partners."
He scoffed. "Are you begging for a mercy killing like a coward?"
Light opened his eyes then, and even cloudy and dim they glared at Hongou with a hatred stoked by years of dwelling on memories. "No. I'm calling the bluff of one."
Hongou hesitated, and in that moment Aoi moved, weapon raised and aimed for the tender side of Hongou’s neck. The swing threw Aoi off balance and the resulting inertia made him collapse into them both. They went down together and ended up in a knot on the ground, furiously grappling, clawing at faces and for the gun. In the struggle, Aoi sliced his own hand and the Hongou's cheek. Light tried to wrench the gun toward himself and when he couldn't, bit down on Hongou's hand like a desperate, furious child, hanging on until his grip released and the snake claimed his prize. Aoi slammed his palm into the Hongou's nose, and blood poured from it. They rolled off and away from him and dodged a lashing kick. Aoi stood and hovered nearby as Light aimed the gun where he must've heard the shallow, gasping breaths; Aoi wasn’t eager to try and take it from him.
"If you kill me," Hongou rasped, "you've killed your sisters and your friends."
"What do you mean?" Light finally sounded frightened, and Aoi doubled down on his harshness to shake him.
"He's lying, shoot him!" Akane was safe out of the country, and Clover was surely under Crash Keys' protection now.
"Hm, am I? My information places them both at..." He named the right hotel and described them down to how Akane had recently cut her hair. He wiped blood from his face and sat up slowly. "And if the people watching them right now don't hear from me within the hour, they will be killed."
‘You have a gun! Find a phone and make him talk!’ Aoi wanted to scream, but doubt killed his voice. A moment longer than years stretched on, before Light cried out in frustration and kicked Hongou’s chest. He wheezed, and before Light could do it again Aoi shoved him, smearing some of his blood on the front of Light’s scrubs. "Stop goddamn it! He's no good dead!" Light didn't hear him and tried to shove him away, and they struggled until he checked Aoi with his bony shoulder. Like fighting a skeleton. Aoi grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in so he could talk by his ear. "Come on, get it together," he whispered urgently, more reassuring than he thought he could be.
Hongou laughed, wet and stuttery. Aoi leaned into Light, hands on his shoulders like Aoi was struggling to hold back a storm. Light, trancelike, didn't speak but finally nodded. Aoi gripped his upper arms and pulled him away from Hongou, who was breathing and conscious but too weak to give chase. Aoi had Light until the stairs before Light shook him off, rubbing his arm like Aoi’s touch burned. They searched Hongou, got the padlock key, and went upstairs. With effort, they pushed a heavy table in front of the basement door in case he tried to get out. They searched the house for a phone, laptop, or any other communication device so they could force him at gunpoint to call off his people.
They couldn’t find a damn thing in the house, yard, and on Hongou and only had so much time to search every car parked on the street. Aoi ran his non-bloodied hand through his hair. “Okay, there has to be something we’re not seeing. Let’s make him tell us where the phone is.”
“With what? He’s already said killing him isn’t viable.” Light hesitated before nodding to himself. “But we can cause him a lot of pain.”
Aoi thought about it. The memories of torture turned his stomach, but A) It was Hongou and B) It was necessary. There were medical instruments available downstairs. He knew that applied correctly they hurt. He didn’t survive this long by being a good person, he rationalized. “Alright.”
They returned to the basement and together moved the table aside. Allyship had made them less hostile to each other and Light wasn’t careful to keep an arm's length away from him anymore. He waited for Aoi to agree before opening the door, and was immediately punched in the face by their captive.
Hongou had been waiting for them and when he punched he’d hit hard enough to knock Light into Aoi. He pushed past them and ran out the front door; by the time they untangled themselves and could follow him out the door, he was gone.
Aoi limped down the front steps and took in the neighborhood. An empty street with potholes and cracked pavement. Two churches set in storefronts were across the street from each other, and a closed convenience store with bars on the windows next to one of them. The streetlights were on. The sun was down, though the sky had a warmer tint to it that suggested it was early morning. Barefooted, Aoi walked across cold concrete, swearing, and the cold morning tried to claim him as its own.
"Where is he?" Light said behind him, not moving from the stoop.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s a smarter use of our time to get back to my guys. Let’s go.” They needed shoes, were both shaking, and had no clue where to go from here. They were weak, sore, and in no shape to give chase. The loss stung but he’d rather be safe.
“You’re just going to give up on finding him?”
"Yep. Follow me," Aoi said, and when he looked back and Light had refused to move, added, “I’m the only one who knows where Clover is, y’know.”
Light followed with hesitation, sweeping his heel across the steps before moving. "...Warn me about anything sharp on the pavement," he reluctantly requested.
Proceeding down the street, they finally came to a light at an intersection announcing they stood on the corner of South Stricker Street and West Baltimore Street. A guy wrapped in what looked like four layers snored on a bench. "Broken glass on your left," Aoi said before crossing the street. He looked around and peered ahead as far as he could. Down the block on his right looked like North Calhoun Street, a street that sounded familiar and might take him closer to the area hiding one of Crash Keys’ pre-established safehouses.
Light shuffled after him, hands in his waistband to both hide the gun and stay warm. He stood at a distance from Aoi once again and stayed quiet.
“This way,” Aoi said. “Uh, I mean to your left.”
Light didn’t acknowledge him. He should have said something snide about not needing help, but he seemed distracted.
As they walked towards North Calhoun, Aoi noticed a lady with two toddlers at the bus stop across the street, watching a bus coming towards her. She noticed him and Light, must've determined that they looked like escaped psychos, and turned back to her kids with a blank face. Aoi wondered if she had spare change for the bus. He would deal with the stares if it meant he had central heating and someone else to shuttle him. His toes would fall off at this rate. If these cuffs didn't get him noticed first. "Hey, why you don't get me outta these?" He jangled them and Light's smile failed at hiding his smugness.
"Oh, unfortunately I lost the pin during the struggle. I'm afraid you'll have to live with them."
"You stupid—"
"You could wear them properly and we can pretend I'm your probation officer."
"We don't have time for this!" Aoi said loud enough that a cat picking through the trash crossed the street to avoid them. His toes numbed by the second and this asshole still wanted to play mind games. "Stop screwing around and take these off." He leaned in. "And get rid of the gun."
"It's not loaded, I checked," Light said, likely to be contrary. “You’ll stress your heart worrying too much. Please, continue to do so.”
Aoi shoved his shoulder, fueled by impulsive anger he was definitely too old for but couldn't temper. "You're so smart, go. See how far you get without me."
Light stepped toward him, using their height difference to his advantage. "Why should I believe I'm safer with you?"
‘Did I leave when I had the chance?’ Aoi thought. "Did SOIS send anyone to check up on your sorry ass? You think they didn't notice a bunch of their people disappeared and they didn't connect the dots?" He wanted to outright call Light a moron, but it would be unproductive. Akane would hold her tongue; Akane would lay out the facts in a voice like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. She'd convince them they couldn't live without her if she had to. Aoi had always been her gun; she aimed with perfect precision and he flew wherever she needed, obliterating any obstacle. He didn't have her level of finesse but force, bluntness had its advantages. "I don't give a shit if you like me, but I'm going to do my job. I'll get you back to Clover alive." He grabbed Light’s arms, his hands weaker from their tingling and his stinging cut, but with enough force Light couldn't pull back. "So you're coming with me."
Light leaned into him, opening his mouth, but a distant car alarm sounded and they jumped at the disturbance. Aoi let go of him and they faced each other, squared off, before Light shook his head, shrugged with one shoulder, and retrieved the pin tucked in his hair behind his ear. It took some time because his right hand seemed numbed and floppy, but he freed Aoi and as they walked dropped both the cuffs and the pistol into a neglected garbage can.
In the spirit of cooperation, Aoi conceded he needed Light’s help so from now on and he had to be neutral. He didn’t live here and had the vaguest clue where to go. "How do we get to…” He blanked on the name of the neighborhood. He was so hungry and tired and cold that he was forgetting his own name.
"First we have to find an open church." Light didn't explain further, like his reasoning should be obvious.
Aoi rolled his eyes at him because Light couldn’t see it; Akane would scold Aoi if she knew. He wanted to be on a couch with her right now, sharing a warm blanket and watching variety shows, but wishing wasn’t going to get them home. “Broken bottles right in front of you,” he said quietly and brushed past Light. Aoi kept pace ahead of him, but Light was never far behind.
Chapter Three
Aoi swore his tonsils were covered in mold. The basement was so damp and dark and he couldn’t get the weird taste out of his mouth. His shoulder hurt from his being handcuffed over the pipe of a water heater to his companion. He was sure he was sitting in a damp patch because his scrubs were sticking to his ass. At least he’d been allowed to keep his school uniform the last time he was kidnapped. He had underwear. He didn’t have to deal with Light Field yanking on his arm hard enough to ram his head into the pipe at least three times.
"Oh, I’m sorry. I just needed to stretch," Light said unapologetically. "This pain in my shoulder is unbearable—ugh!" His head smacked into the pipe with a satisfying bang.
"Mine too," Aoi slurred. Light sounded more awake. "What do you remember?" The same thing Aoi did; their argument in Mount Washington and then being kidnapped. Between then and now was muddled.
The way they were cuffed forced them to sit on the floor, pressed to the heater and backs to the concrete wall. The half-window set high in the wall at the far end of the room was dark so he couldn’t tell what time it was, and there was only a single bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. A painful bright red ring around his wrist indicated they'd been that way for some time. When Aoi went to rub his neck with his free hand, he felt tender skin, stitches, and shaved hair. "What the fuck..."
"You only just noticed?" Light covered the back of his neck with his left hand. "It's irritating..."
"I couldn't feel it over you trying to smash my head in."
"I don't know what you're referring to." He sniffed the air. "We're in some sort of basement, correct?"
"Yeah."
Light seemed to wait for him to ask how he knew that, but continued after a beat of silence. "The reek of mold was clue enough, but the footsteps overhead convinced me."
Aoi looked upward, only to find the movement aggravated the stitches. "Do you hear anything now?"
"...They’re walking away from us. Where are the stairs if there are any?"
"Opposite end of the room." He had a memory of the last time they'd been imprisoned, working together in a similar locked room. Focused, on the same team. On the same team now, whether Light believed him. "So—"
Said door opened and heavy steps came toward them. Aoi braced his feet on the floor and tried to push himself up the wall but he didn’t have the strength. Even in the darkness of the room, he'd know that face.
With a cat's smile, Gentarou Hongou approached and pressed a pistol to the center of Aoi's forehead. "I believe you’re Aoi," he said. His suit was so new Aoi could see the origami-tight creases. "I wonder: are you still so cocky at the other end of the barrel?"
Aoi closed his eyes and carefully considered his next words. "Bigger balls than you had—" A hard pistol whip cut Aoi off with a loud smack and the taste of blood as he bit his tongue. Swallowing copper and pain, he spat out, "Are you scared 'cause we ain't kids any—" Crack.
"If you have the advantage, there's no need to restrain us is there?" Light said, shifting slightly away so he tugged on Aoi's arm.
"You’re right about that. You're effectively neutered," Hongou pressed the muzzle to Aoi's lips. "That doesn't mean I've forgotten how you fooled me the first time."
Hongou hadn't been this cocky when Aoi lead him into the desert at gunpoint, made him cuff and gag himself, and left him in the trunk. Only the thought of a gun in his mouth kept Aoi from taunting him with that knowledge. He wouldn't blink, even when Light opened his mouth like an idiot:
"Don’t you want sporting odds?"
"Are you begging?"
"No, I just wanted to prove my suspicion you were still a coward." Another crack; Light exhaled a pained breath.
Aoi debated the merits of trying to punch Light in the balls. He was going to get them killed. "What do you want already?" Aoi said. "He's a jackass but he's not worth your time." Light found the energy to sniff at that. Aoi tried to peer around Hongou and saw they were alone, so he felt confident he could handle the situation. A long time ago, pre-Second Nonary Game, Seven taught him how to get out of zip ties and handcuffs, but not with a gun in his face and someone else's life on the line too. Still, Hongou had stepped close enough for Aoi to strike with his heel and hit him in the knee.
His bad leg jerked painfully, but it was worth it when the other stumbled and grunted—less so when Hongou wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed until he saw black spots. "Keep pressing your luck." He punctuated that by shaking Aoi so hard his head hit the wall once, and then he blacked out.
When Aoi came to his vision swam and his ears rang so violently it was painful, his teeth and jaw locked. But one pain was gone—his left arm was free, the skin and shoulder still burning but no longer restrained. He held it up, dazedly watching the cuffs dangle and rattle softly. “Huh?”
"You're welcome," Light said, standing over him and holding up a tiny pin between two fingers. "I just found this behind the heater and he neglected to buy handcuffs with a double-lock mechanism. It was child's play."
‘Jerk yourself off later,’ Aoi wanted to say, but gurgled instead. He straightened up unaided, so dizzy he wanted to barf, and dragged himself up the wall. "Where?" he got out.
"Not directly above us, at least." Light tilted his head up. "Thank you for playing the fool and angering him. He left after knocking you unconscious and gave me time to free us." Yet he'd left the cuffs on Aoi.
"Let's go," Aoi said, wobbling toward him, but he shook his head.
"He'll be back before we can force the window open—it's painted shut. And I can’t seem to pick the padlock on the door."
"Then look harder genius." Aoi forced himself to walk straight lines, frowning at the damp floor. "Not a locked room without an escape route." He approached the table, finding it covered with neatly organized medical equipment in sterile packaging, although this place didn't look like one for hygienic medical treatment. Aoi touched the base of his head again, feeling that tiny but painful stitched wound. He forgot personal concerns and slipped into the problem solving, single-minded paradigm that kept him alive one long night years ago, and more since. "Get to work—I ain't dying here."
Then he picked up a mallet on the table, walked to the window, and took it to the glass like Hongou had to Aoi’s knuckles fourteen years ago. He focused his efforts on the four corners to weaken it and then kept beating the center until the tiniest crack appeared. Another hit and the glass splintered. One more and a hole opened up.
"Do you think we can fit through that?"
"Shut up and give me that arm. I'm not risking my veins for this."
"It's not a toy."
"How badly do you wanna see Clover again? I just need a hole big enough to—"
Light didn't let him finish speaking before slamming his left fist through it, grimacing as it caught his arm and jerked him forward, but retracted his arm and did it again, opening it wide enough to reach out. "And I suppose I'm also the tool to open said window?" He took Aoi's silence as the answer, and sighed and began searching for a lock or weak place in the frame from the outside while Aoi replaced the mallet with a scalpel to chip away at the paint in hopes of loosening it. "The left side, where the frame meets the stone. It could be pried away with something strong enough."
Aoi considered it doubtfully. He was more likely to open a vein by crawling out the broken window, and even if they could open it, the opening they’d make would be so narrow they’d have to slither through one at a time, and who would go first? Who’s to say he wouldn’t be left behind if the other refused to give him a hand? His hand holding the scalpel burned, weakness making the instrument tremble in his hand, and he looked around for something strong enough to pry open the window. The room was long, narrow, and save the equipment in the corner and a chair, bare.
As his vision blurred, the room lost its edges and he looked into space until Light coughed. “You have five seconds before I escape myself.”
The locked door complained and ground above them, and they both turned their heads. Aoi’s fist clenched around the scalpel. "I need you to keep him talking," he said, before slipping away, sidling behind the stairs and against the wall until he was wedged, pressing his breaths back into his chest. He had a scalpel and desperation against a gun. His whole body hurt and he wanted to puke. It would have to do. From where he hid he could see through a gap in the stairs to watch the scene.
Light turned his head left and right in an owlish fashion, looking irate, but coolness washed over his face as the footsteps shook the stairs above Aoi.
"Don't tell me you two still can't follow simple instructions." Gun raised, Hongou looked side-to-side. "Where's the other one hiding, hm? Tell me and you'll suffer the least."
"You had to chain us up before you felt brave enough to confront us. I'm not afraid of you." Not even a falter in Light’s voice. Aoi tried to breathe steady and silent through his nose. ‘Come on, keep going. Just distract him so I can—’
What Light did was brave, foolish, or both. He stepped forward and grabbed the gun faster than the other could pull it back, and yanked it forward so the muzzle pressed to his forehead. "You hate me so much, shoot me now. See, I'll give you a handicap. I remember you needed those to kill your partners."
He scoffed. "Are you begging for a mercy killing like a coward?"
Light opened his eyes then, and even cloudy and dim they glared at Hongou with a hatred stoked by years of dwelling on memories. "No. I'm calling the bluff of one."
Hongou hesitated, and in that moment Aoi moved, weapon raised and aimed for the tender side of Hongou’s neck. The swing threw Aoi off balance and the resulting inertia made him collapse into them both. They went down together and ended up in a knot on the ground, furiously grappling, clawing at faces and for the gun. In the struggle, Aoi sliced his own hand and the Hongou's cheek. Light tried to wrench the gun toward himself and when he couldn't, bit down on Hongou's hand like a desperate, furious child, hanging on until his grip released and the snake claimed his prize. Aoi slammed his palm into the Hongou's nose, and blood poured from it. They rolled off and away from him and dodged a lashing kick. Aoi stood and hovered nearby as Light aimed the gun where he must've heard the shallow, gasping breaths; Aoi wasn’t eager to try and take it from him.
"If you kill me," Hongou rasped, "you've killed your sisters and your friends."
"What do you mean?" Light finally sounded frightened, and Aoi doubled down on his harshness to shake him.
"He's lying, shoot him!" Akane was safe out of the country, and Clover was surely under Crash Keys' protection now.
"Hm, am I? My information places them both at..." He named the right hotel and described them down to how Akane had recently cut her hair. He wiped blood from his face and sat up slowly. "And if the people watching them right now don't hear from me within the hour, they will be killed."
‘You have a gun! Find a phone and make him talk!’ Aoi wanted to scream, but doubt killed his voice. A moment longer than years stretched on, before Light cried out in frustration and kicked Hongou’s chest. He wheezed, and before Light could do it again Aoi shoved him, smearing some of his blood on the front of Light’s scrubs. "Stop goddamn it! He's no good dead!" Light didn't hear him and tried to shove him away, and they struggled until he checked Aoi with his bony shoulder. Like fighting a skeleton. Aoi grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in so he could talk by his ear. "Come on, get it together," he whispered urgently, more reassuring than he thought he could be.
Hongou laughed, wet and stuttery. Aoi leaned into Light, hands on his shoulders like Aoi was struggling to hold back a storm. Light, trancelike, didn't speak but finally nodded. Aoi gripped his upper arms and pulled him away from Hongou, who was breathing and conscious but too weak to give chase. Aoi had Light until the stairs before Light shook him off, rubbing his arm like Aoi’s touch burned. They searched Hongou, got the padlock key, and went upstairs. With effort, they pushed a heavy table in front of the basement door in case he tried to get out. They searched the house for a phone, laptop, or any other communication device so they could force him at gunpoint to call off his people.
They couldn’t find a damn thing in the house, yard, and on Hongou and only had so much time to search every car parked on the street. Aoi ran his non-bloodied hand through his hair. “Okay, there has to be something we’re not seeing. Let’s make him tell us where the phone is.”
“With what? He’s already said killing him isn’t viable.” Light hesitated before nodding to himself. “But we can cause him a lot of pain.”
Aoi thought about it. The memories of torture turned his stomach, but A) It was Hongou and B) It was necessary. There were medical instruments available downstairs. He knew that applied correctly they hurt. He didn’t survive this long by being a good person, he rationalized. “Alright.”
They returned to the basement and together moved the table aside. Allyship had made them less hostile to each other and Light wasn’t careful to keep an arm's length away from him anymore. He waited for Aoi to agree before opening the door, and was immediately punched in the face by their captive.
Hongou had been waiting for them and when he punched he’d hit hard enough to knock Light into Aoi. He pushed past them and ran out the front door; by the time they untangled themselves and could follow him out the door, he was gone.
Aoi limped down the front steps and took in the neighborhood. An empty street with potholes and cracked pavement. Two churches set in storefronts were across the street from each other, and a closed convenience store with bars on the windows next to one of them. The streetlights were on. The sun was down, though the sky had a warmer tint to it that suggested it was early morning. Barefooted, Aoi walked across cold concrete, swearing, and the cold morning tried to claim him as its own.
"Where is he?" Light said behind him, not moving from the stoop.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s a smarter use of our time to get back to my guys. Let’s go.” They needed shoes, were both shaking, and had no clue where to go from here. They were weak, sore, and in no shape to give chase. The loss stung but he’d rather be safe.
“You’re just going to give up on finding him?”
"Yep. Follow me," Aoi said, and when he looked back and Light had refused to move, added, “I’m the only one who knows where Clover is, y’know.”
Light followed with hesitation, sweeping his heel across the steps before moving. "...Warn me about anything sharp on the pavement," he reluctantly requested.
Proceeding down the street, they finally came to a light at an intersection announcing they stood on the corner of South Stricker Street and West Baltimore Street. A guy wrapped in what looked like four layers snored on a bench. "Broken glass on your left," Aoi said before crossing the street. He looked around and peered ahead as far as he could. Down the block on his right looked like North Calhoun Street, a street that sounded familiar and might take him closer to the area hiding one of Crash Keys’ pre-established safehouses.
Light shuffled after him, hands in his waistband to both hide the gun and stay warm. He stood at a distance from Aoi once again and stayed quiet.
“This way,” Aoi said. “Uh, I mean to your left.”
Light didn’t acknowledge him. He should have said something snide about not needing help, but he seemed distracted.
As they walked towards North Calhoun, Aoi noticed a lady with two toddlers at the bus stop across the street, watching a bus coming towards her. She noticed him and Light, must've determined that they looked like escaped psychos, and turned back to her kids with a blank face. Aoi wondered if she had spare change for the bus. He would deal with the stares if it meant he had central heating and someone else to shuttle him. His toes would fall off at this rate. If these cuffs didn't get him noticed first. "Hey, why you don't get me outta these?" He jangled them and Light's smile failed at hiding his smugness.
"Oh, unfortunately I lost the pin during the struggle. I'm afraid you'll have to live with them."
"You stupid—"
"You could wear them properly and we can pretend I'm your probation officer."
"We don't have time for this!" Aoi said loud enough that a cat picking through the trash crossed the street to avoid them. His toes numbed by the second and this asshole still wanted to play mind games. "Stop screwing around and take these off." He leaned in. "And get rid of the gun."
"It's not loaded, I checked," Light said, likely to be contrary. “You’ll stress your heart worrying too much. Please, continue to do so.”
Aoi shoved his shoulder, fueled by impulsive anger he was definitely too old for but couldn't temper. "You're so smart, go. See how far you get without me."
Light stepped toward him, using their height difference to his advantage. "Why should I believe I'm safer with you?"
‘Did I leave when I had the chance?’ Aoi thought. "Did SOIS send anyone to check up on your sorry ass? You think they didn't notice a bunch of their people disappeared and they didn't connect the dots?" He wanted to outright call Light a moron, but it would be unproductive. Akane would hold her tongue; Akane would lay out the facts in a voice like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. She'd convince them they couldn't live without her if she had to. Aoi had always been her gun; she aimed with perfect precision and he flew wherever she needed, obliterating any obstacle. He didn't have her level of finesse but force, bluntness had its advantages. "I don't give a shit if you like me, but I'm going to do my job. I'll get you back to Clover alive." He grabbed Light’s arms, his hands weaker from their tingling and his stinging cut, but with enough force Light couldn't pull back. "So you're coming with me."
Light leaned into him, opening his mouth, but a distant car alarm sounded and they jumped at the disturbance. Aoi let go of him and they faced each other, squared off, before Light shook his head, shrugged with one shoulder, and retrieved the pin tucked in his hair behind his ear. It took some time because his right hand seemed numbed and floppy, but he freed Aoi and as they walked dropped both the cuffs and the pistol into a neglected garbage can.
In the spirit of cooperation, Aoi conceded he needed Light’s help so from now on and he had to be neutral. He didn’t live here and had the vaguest clue where to go. "How do we get to…” He blanked on the name of the neighborhood. He was so hungry and tired and cold that he was forgetting his own name.
"First we have to find an open church." Light didn't explain further, like his reasoning should be obvious.
Aoi rolled his eyes at him because Light couldn’t see it; Akane would scold Aoi if she knew. He wanted to be on a couch with her right now, sharing a warm blanket and watching variety shows, but wishing wasn’t going to get them home. “Broken bottles right in front of you,” he said quietly and brushed past Light. Aoi kept pace ahead of him, but Light was never far behind.
