Chapter Text
A familiar voice calls out to Kiryu while he’s snuffing out the ember of his cigarette by grinding it against the wet pavement with a lazy twist of his sole.
“Prez, just now- was that man harassing you?”
He turns towards the voice to see Marina standing behind him, hand on her hip and face in a frown. He’s not quite sure what she means by that, so all he gives to her as a reply is the furrow of his own brow.
“The long-haired man that just left-” She says, her eyes trailing down the street behind him, towards the crowd where the back of the said man had disappeared into moments ago, “I’ve seen that flashy red suit around here before.”
There’s clear annoyance on her features as she turns her gaze back on Kiryu to lock eyes with him.
“That man is a yakuza, you know. I’ve seen the pin on his lapel. You shouldn’t associate yourself with people like that.” She says, and despite the disdain clear in her voice, there’s worry ghosting over her features. Kiryu glances towards the crowd, the mentioned figure already long gone.
Ah, Kiryu realizes, she must have seen Nishiki right before he left, then. That’s troublesome.
Nishiki had been dropping by to see Kiryu at the real estate office every now and then, for a bit of this and that.
It was mostly for insignificant errands like retrieving the cassettes Kiryu had been borrowing, or to have a quick smoke together just to catch up before they both had to get back to their respective jobs.
Usually, Nishiki would call in advance and Kiryu would greet him at the bottom of the staircase to the office, and they’d smoke a cigarette or two together while chatting about whatever was at the top of their minds. It was often things they could’ve just discussed over the phone, but Nishiki was running back and forth from the family office anyway and it was close by, so quick words exchanged in the stairway of Kiryu’s office slotted into his schedule just fine.
They had been forced into being little sneaky about seeing each other, since Kiryu’s sudden depart from the Tojo clan had inevitably caused some bad blood to form among the ranks. Nishiki had been instructed to not associate himself with Kiryu anymore, but what the family didn’t see, they didn’t need to know about. Since they wanted to avoid drawing unwanted attention, their meetings had become rather brief, or private.
Just now, Nishiki had dropped by just to ask if their plans to drink at Kiryu’s place this evening was still on or not. Kiryu had bummed a cigarette off of him while they tried to remember if Kiryu’s fridge still has enough beer in it for both of them, or if Nishiki should buy few cans on his way there just in case.
He never lingered around for too long, out of concern for the risk of other family members seeing him around. It was a bit bothersome arrangement, but the extra caution had ensured the family hadn’t caught onto their secret meetings.
Kiryu only now realized he had severely underestimated the possible nosiness of his own secretary.
“I… don’t know who you’re talking about,” He answers, blunt and rude. He decides its best to just deny it. He would rather not discuss this topic with her at all, if possible.
Marina’s frown deepens, and her tone turns accusatory. “Why would you deny that? I’ve seen you talk with him before.”
It had to be a small miracle that Kiryu had managed to keep his civilian cover from blowing during the months they’d spent working together so far.
She’d been a great help around the office for him, and he valued her work, even if she had her own strange quirks. He didn’t want her knowing things that might put a strain on their otherwise functional relationship.
Overall, Marina was a nice person, sure, but he’d found out about her real career not too long ago, and it made him feel wary about bringing up anything related to his former career path. Even though he had built up quite a bit trust in her, he’d still rather not take the risk with outing himself as a former yakuza to an active, on-duty cop.
But now that she had clearly caught onto him being acquainted with a family member, denying it further would only ever do more harm. Kiryu sighs, contemplating lighting a second cigarette in case this conversation gets long. He’d prefer it didn’t, so he just shifts his weight from one leg to another, bringing a hand up to rub his neck.
“It’s complicated.” he decides to say, because it’s true.
Being evasive doesn’t improve the situation much either. She eyes him with a frown, clearly hoping for further clarification on the matter. He’s not willing to give her any.
With the potentially dangerous man long gone, and Kiryu being as giving as a brick wall on this topic, it’s her turn to sigh. She lets her hand fall from her waist to her side, and she drops the subject.
“Whatever, forget it.” she says, defeated, “Let’s just head inside, we’ve got an appointment coming in in five.”
They leave it at that.
___
When Kiryu mentions it to Nishiki over beers at his place later that night, Nishiki laughs at him.
“That’s rich- You're seriously getting scolded at by your secretary? Now that’s a sight I’d love to see”
He’s already a little tipsy, and he’s been hogging the bag of chips on Kiryu's table the whole time. He had bought it for himself, sure, but anything he brings along to their hangouts is up for grabs for Kiryu too. That’s just how it worked between them: anything that was Nishiki’s was also Kiryu’s by proxy. Always had been.
Kiryu grabs onto the corner of the bag, pulling it across the table to himself. He gets a handful before Nishiki pulls it back to reach in. He holds the chip to his lips only to lower it instead of biting into it. He’s clearly amused, mouth stretching into a wide, thin smile.
“Yeah, no- that’s honestly kind of funny,” he says, “does she think I’m threatening you? Or coercing your business under the family’s protection or something like that?”
“Probably,” Kiryu shrugs.
Nishiki lets out an amused huff.
“If anything, she should be worried about you, not me,” He gestures at Kiryu with the chip he’s holding, which gains him a frown that's paired with a questioning raised brow. Nishiki smiles and continues speaking in his usual teasing, yet lightheartedly almost mocking tone, “I mean she's never even seen me up close, but she's spending all her days with you. You've got the look of a yakuza poster boy and you have no self-control when it comes to picking unnecessary fights… if I was her, I’d be more scared of you and that frown of yours.”
It’s not like Nishiki himself was much better off, but it doesn't stop him from teasing the guy.
They’d done their share of tussling and sparring together growing up, practicing wrestling lifts and tosses on each other in the muddy yard of the orphanage. Their fights had come to real, serious blows only once or twice in their time together, over stupid words said in growing pains.
The last time Nishiki had been punched, really punched, by Kiryu was when they were still teens, when Kiryu had accidentally broken the radio Nishiki had brought along to the orphanage, had snapped the metal rod while trying to adjust the channel.
Nishiki had flipped over it, because it was one of the few things he had left of his life before coming to The Sunflower. There’d been other different things leading up to it too: trouble with classmates at school, new insecurities and problems blooming left and right. It had just been one thing too many for Nishiki, and he had ended up instigating a serious fight because Kiryu struggled with finding words for an apology, and he was the closest thing to vent his anger at. Neither of them ever had a good temper, anyway.
Nishiki had punched him first, foolishly seeking an physical outlet for his grief and anger. He hadn't found any relief in the frustrated violence no matter how hard he had hit, had shoved and got shoved back, had cursed - instead of relief, he had only ended up getting the full prowess of Kiryu’s fist driven into his stomach after a particularly nasty insult he’d thrown - it had hit where it hurt, and thus Kiryu hadn't held back at all, like they both usually did. Nishiki vaguely remembers almost throwing up from the impact, remembers his knees buckling beneath him. He knew better than to throw a similar punch back. It’d been a particularly pathetic end for the pathetic fight, a moment he’d much prefer to forget, but the memory of that raw strength remained as vivid as the bruises had been.
They often enjoyed a good exchange of playful blows together, regularly sparred together with varying intensity, but they didn’t want to actually hurt each other - Kiryu knew he’d crossed the unspoken line then, and had later taken the radio for repair at a small electronics shop in the city. Months’ worth of saved up allowance was spent on the apology- not only for breaking it, but for hurting him too hard. Nishiki still has that beat up thing saved up somewhere, tucked away in a closet at his current apartment.
He can only imagine how strong Kiryu’s full strength punch would be now: he’d seen the general scope of it, watched Kiryu from the corner of his eye in street fights. He never wants to find out what it’s like to be on the receiving end of the upgraded version, happy they were always on each other's good side, never warranting it.
“Well, she still thinks I’m a legit civilian, even if I can hold my weight in a fight,” Kiryu says, “She said I should keep my distance to you, since you basically scream yakuza.” He tries to eye Nishiki objectively for a moment, from a civilian point of view. He looks like a yakuza, that’s for sure. Walks and talks like one, and if it’s not the carefully selected suit or the chain, the expensive belt or the carefully styled hair, it’s the glimmering pin that's a dead giveaway.
It all paid off in getting the message across. Kiryu had never really paid attention to those things himself. He just had the face for it, while Nishiki had meticulously tailored himself to suit the image of a young yakuza.
“Maybe there’s some truth to what you said about the looks and image and all that junk. It’s convinced her for sure,” he says, remembering back to the lectures Nishiki had given him when they’d gone for dinner together.
“Yeah?” Nishiki speaks, smile spread wide on his face as he jokes, “and you’re a lousy civilian then, kyodai, for letting a bad yakuza like me into your home so easily.”
“You let yourself in, idiot.” Kiryu says, but the insult has no weight behind it.
“And who gave me the spare key? What would your sweet secretary say about that?”
“Same thing she’d say about the tattoo on my back, maybe,” Kiryu’s lip curves just barely upwards, but Nishiki’s eyes still catch it.
“Better keep your shirt on around her then,” Nishiki smirks at him, a sound of amusement escaping along his exhale.
“Shut up.” Kiryu replies, grabbing the bag to himself.
Nishiki lets him hog it and reaches for the tv remote instead, flickering the screen on, only to absentmindedly surf the channels as the topic shifts, and Kiryu goes on to talk about some strange customer he had that day.
Nishiki lights a cigarette, and they pass it back and forth until it burns down to the filter.
____
Nishiki had gotten into the habit of lingering near the office every now and then to see Kiryu, but he only ever enters the building itself when the secretary isn’t around.
This is done by conscious choice on his part: it’s a precautionary measure since Nishiki doesn’t know her nor did he care to get to know to her, and he felt the best way to avoid any unwanted questions that she might direct towards him was to just stay out of sight.
Kiryu was supposed to be a squeaky-clean civilian (even if he didn’t look the part at all) so having a yakuza act all cozy with him would only ever taint his image. Nishiki felt sneaking in and out was kind of foolish, almost childish even, but it was simply easier for everyone involved if she didn’t know about Kiryu’s past, or the people in it.
Nishiki didn’t try to visit Kiryu inside the office very often in any case, but when he did, it was usually when he happened to be nearby the office during lunch hours.
He’d indulge in a rare house-call when he knew she wasn’t around to steal a bite or two from whatever Kiryu was having, or if he was hungry himself, he’d grab a bento from the Poppo at the corner of the Tenkaichi street, and they’d eat together in the office before she came back from her own break.
Although the office life didn’t really call out to him as anything special, Nishiki couldn’t deny this arrangement had its small perks. The communication was significantly easier compared to their usual paging of phone booth numbers back and forth and the office wasn't half-bad, but it was probably the only bright side to them now working different jobs. Being able to just call in to the same number to ask if he can come over was nice, but if it was his choice, he’d prefer to share the rides and work hours like before.
Today too, Nishiki decided to drop in for a visit while the secretary was on her lunch break elsewhere, and he strolls in like he owns the place.
The door swings open and Nishiki scans the room on instinct just in case, to make sure no one else it truly there before he sets his eyes on Kiryu, sitting behind his big boss-man desk. Kiryu locks eyes with him, a nod, and Nishiki gives him a smile while shoving the door close with his foot.
“Yo, kyodai.” Nishiki greets him before letting his eyes travel through the office slower this time, taking it in. The secretary’s seat is empty, some paperwork laying on the table, but everything turned upside down on confidentiality protocol.
“You know, I almost feel like a mistress, sneaking in like this when she's out,” he jokes, and the way Kiryu’s face twists into a frown was humorous to him.
“Don’t even joke like that.” Kiryu replies to him, refocusing on his lunch.
“Hey, is that what I think it is?” Nishiki instantly recognizes the logo on the takeaway box Kiryu was eating out of, because it was a place they’d gone to before together a few times. He knew the fish there, especially the tuna, was top tier. “I thought you were too stingy to eat there.”
“We have a deal with the estate so I get staff discounts,” Kiryu says.
Since Nishiki hadn’t had his own lunch yet he circles around the desk to Kiryu’s side, eyeing the pieces lined up inside the box with a curious gaze while Kiryu, unsurprisingly, frowns at him and doesn’t graciously offer any free pieces for him to take out of good will.
Nishiki had treated him the meal when they’d previously hit the shop, so being stingy here wasn’t all that nice of him.
There’s no other seats on Kiryu’s side of the table, so Nishiki opts for just crudely sitting on top of the desk next to Kiryu, impolite and spread legged. His ass crumbles the boring documents he doesn’t bother to move to the side as he leans closer to get a good look at the contents of the decorated sushi box. There were few shrimp ones in there, eel, some salmon, bit of this and that. Not a bad selection.
“You're telling me you’ve got a staff discount, and yet you’ve never treated me a meal there? You’re horrible, bro,” he speaks, face twisting into an exaggerated frown.
“It’s a fresh deal, and I can't apply it to everyone I know,” Kiryu replies, not swayed by his false upset.
“I’m not everyone.” Nishiki argues. He has a point. It makes the corner of Kiryu’s lip twitch up, but he doesn’t budge.
“Maybe so, but I like the owner there, and I’d feel bad for taking advantage of his offer. You have expensive tastes,” Kiryu says, and they both know it to be true. Nishiki was all about splurging on the finer things.
Nishiki leans back a little, his frown dissipating into an amused smirk, “No wonder you didn’t make it as a yakuza.” he jokes. As he shifts, the sound of the papers crumbling draws Kiryu’s attention. He’s pretty sure he had an important sales agreement in that document pile, and it was his only copy.
“Watch it, you’re ruining my paperwork.” He speaks, frowning at Nishiki as he’s trying to pull at the corner of one of the papers to get it from under the man, to stop it from crinkling any further. While he’s busy with that, Nishiki manages to shamelessly snatch the tamago nigiri from the outer corner of the box in Kiryu’s other hand. Then he has the audacity to flash Kiryu a cheeky smile when he’s inevitably caught for it, no attempt made to conceal his chewing.
Kiryu instantly forgets the papers and starts guarding his lunch like a dragon would treasure. It makes Nishiki laugh a little, small snicker escaping from his mouth when he sees the pissed off expression on Kiryu’s face. The tuna he’d set his eyes on a moment ago, the fatty toro nigiri, was in the corner closest to Kiryu and thus harder to reach. He's going for it next.
Every time Nishiki tries to reach in for another piece mid chat, Kiryu slaps his hand away. There’s no getting past him, apparently, so he’d have to talk the man into it.
“C’mon bro, have a heart.” Nishiki tries, smile persistent on his face as he reaches in, “you can spare one more.”
“If you want it that bad, go buy your own,” Kiryu tells him, shoving at Nishiki’s knee with his elbow with enough power to force to his spread legs close, to make him take less space on the desk. The work documents rustle as Nishiki adjusts himself back how he was.
“Oi, don’t be such a stingy asshole,” Nishiki complains, but the expression on his face tells he’s not all that serious. He still wants that toro, though.
“Fuck off.” Is all Kiryu gives as an reply, shoving another piece into his mouth under Nishiki’s gaze. Wait, was that the yellowtail? Damn.
There were fewer and fewer pieces left in the box, and any time now Kiryu could go for the one Nishiki had set his eyes on. At this pace, the tamago will remain his first and only piece.
Nishiki frowns at him, switching tactics.
He takes a rude tone when he speaks again, a bit of a show put on, “Hey, is that any way for a civilian to talk to a yakuza? I’ll kick your ass.”
That gets a smile out of Kiryu, “Yeah? And I’ll call the cops on you if you keep extorting me. Now quit being a dick.”
Kiryu’s going for the next piece, and suddenly his chopsticks linger right above the toro. There’s an ever so slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lip as he briefly glances up at Nishiki.
Damn bastard. He knows.
“Oh I won’t let you-” Nishiki reaches in to grab at the front of Kiryu’s jacket with one hand, yanking at him hard enough to halt his movements, “don’t be such a stingy bastard, Kiryu. Little generosity won't kill you”
Somewhere in the background there’s a distant tapping sound neither of them pays any attention to because Nishiki is reaching for the damn sushi box with his free hand, while Kiryu drops the chopsticks instantly to push the box further away on the table, snapping an arm up to hold the wrist of the hand Nishiki’s pulling at him with.
“Fuck off.”
Kiryu’s deadpan voice makes it sound like he’s being serious. He probably is. Nishiki huffs, half laugher, half disbelief.
“This isn’t attractive, bro. Learn to share.” Nishiki jabs at him, but Kiryu isn’t budging.
He’s being stupidly stubborn about it and the more petty Kiryu makes this, the more Nishiki wants the damn toro.
“C’mon,” He says, reaching over, shifting his weight to one side to grow his reach. There’s creaking somewhere.
“I already said no.” Kiryu replies with a stern voice, reaching to grab his other hand, shattering his chances of reaching the box without turning this into a real tussle. Nishiki clicks his tongue, giving Kiryu the most judgmental stare he can muster.
“I’ll make you regret that decision, asshole.” He threatens.
He’s not childish enough to actually wrestle Kiryu for one measly piece of his lunch, even if it’s one of his favorites. Still, since he’s not getting that fatty tuna belly now, then the next time they’re out to eat, Kiryu can pick his own tab. Nishiki might even make him pay for the damn karaoke, too, just to rub salt into the wound. He’s about to give Kiryu’s chair a light kick to get him to let his hand go, when a sudden high voice interrupts their little confrontation.
“Mr. President?!”
The door has swung open and Marina barges in, her heels clinking against the floor in hastened steps as the alerted look on her face twists into shock. Her lunch break is supposed to last for at least another 30 minutes but here she is, walking in onto a strange scene that takes her a moment to wrap her head around of.
She’d heard parts of a conversation that sounded very, very bad through the crack of the door, but the sight of it is even worse.
Her boss is sitting in his seat with a yakuza hovering above him in a threatening manner, physically restraining him with his suit in a balled fist. His hand is restrained in the air, as if he was about to pull a punch that had been caught before landing, and it looks like they’re one move away from a fistfight.
The yakuza turns his head to look at her, and she then recognizes him to be the same red-suited man she’s seen around the office before. The very same one who had been harassing her boss the other day.
Both men look like they’ve been caught with their pants down, stiff in shock while Marina panics, dropping the plastic bag she’d been holding, “W-what’s going on here?! Prez, are you alright?”
Kiryu lets out a hesitant sound to acknowledge her presence but can’t get any real words out. He lets go of Nishiki’s arm, letting it fall limply down to his side.
Nishiki realizes quickly that this is bad. This is really bad. If she figures out that they know each other Kiryu’s cover might blow, and the rumors would spread like wildfire in Kamurochō. That won’t do.
His grip on Kiryu’s jacket falters briefly, before he quickly decides against it - it's better to play according to expectations. He yanks at it a little, balling more fabric into his fist while placing his other palm flat on Kiryu’s desk.
“Hey, you. Read the room and get out.” He addresses her directly, with a low voice and a cold glare.
There's a change of posture, a change of tone. This kind of thing came naturally when constantly switching between persuasion and intimidation was part of the job.
“I’m talking business with your boss here, and you’re in the way.”
Despite his harsh tone, the woman isn’t going anywhere. If anything, being directly addressed makes her stand firmer on her ground, even if she flinches at his voice.
Nishiki clicks his tongue, sliding down from the table, unhanding Kiryu. He’ll just have to push her little further to get her to leave, even if he doesn’t like doing this whole act to women. It’s just another unfortunate part of the job.
Kiryu can instantly tell he’s going to threaten her, noticing the shift, and quickly pulls him to stop by the arm. If Nishiki pressures her too much, she might seriously get the police force involved. Kiryu can’t let that happen.
“Don’t-” he says, stern enough to stop Nishiki in his tracks “She’s a cop.”
Nishiki turns to Kiryu, head snapping so fast his hair whips at his cheek, “What’d you say?”
“I said she’s a cop- she’s just undercover,” He repeats, not letting go of the sleeve until he’s sure Nishiki isn’t going to do anything stupid. It's such an absurd turn of events that Nishiki can't wrap his head around it.
“T-that’s right!” Marina cuts in, voice rising briefly, “I’ve seen you around here before. I knew you were up to no good, but to think you’d be extorting my boss... I won’t let you harm him, so- so you’re under arrest!”
Nishiki freezes where he stands. Putting the absurdity of the situation aside, this is bad. This is really fucking bad.
There’s panic rising in Nishiki’s chest, clamping up his throat. If this woman really is a cop, which it seems she is, then given her direct association with Kiryu, resisting wouldn't do him much good. He can't just run, then, but getting arrested was not an option, either. If he’s taken in here, then the records will inevitably leak to the family, and it will be revealed he’s been seeing Kiryu all this time, against his orders, and they’ll both get in serious trouble. He swallows, and Kiryu watches the bob of his Adam’s apple before he flickers his eyes back to his secretary.
“It’s not like that, Marina.” Kiryu interrupts, trying to defuse the situation, even though he’s just as stressed as Nishiki. He’s trying to come up with an explanation for the situation on the fly, and it’s not working well for him. “He’s- we know each other, its fine.” He tries.
“That makes no sense! First you say you don't know him and now you do?” She argues, clearly not convinced by such a half-assed excuse. “He was clearly just about to assault you! That kind of guy should get locked up!”
It’s no surprise the situation might’ve appeared that way to her: Nishiki had even tried to play into it, without much success. Even if the grip on his lapel had been rough, for them it was almost playful. Any of the insults thrown she might’ve overheard had no real weight behind them, they were nothing but empty threats between friends.
The problem here was that there was no proper way for them to convey that to her, without revealing their shared background they were so insistent on keeping hidden.
Since Kiryu couldn’t tell the truth by revealing the fact that they were bound together as oath brothers, he had to try to come up with a lie that’s believable.
Something that conveyed the significance of that oath and the depth of their trust in each other, without revealing too much. A lie with which this kind of physical closeness could be easily explained with. He briefly remembers the stupid mistress joke Nishiki had made upon arrival, and his brain goes off on the tangent and doesn’t catch up to his mouth before he opens it to speak.
“We- uh- we’re together!” he blurts out.
Nishiki whips his head to stare at Kiryu so fast his neck nearly cracks, with an expression that is completely unreadable, all color draining from his face. He clearly had not expected that to be the lie Kiryu uses to try to cover their asses in this situation.
Kiryu feels hot in his suit as he quickly averts his gaze from Nishiki’s flabbergasted stare, only to see the expressions on Marina’s face changing like a slideshow.
“Eh? What?” She looks at Kiryu, then at the back of Nishiki’s head, then back at Kiryu, “did I hear that right? You’re- you’re saying you’re dating this yakuza?”
Nishiki is still looking at Kiryu with an expression that is unreadable, but the way his brows are furrowing together is creating a deep, deep crease on his forehead. Kiryu purposefully avoids locking eyes with him. He’s not sure if Nishiki is more likely to burst into laughter or take a swing at him, so the decides its best to avoid tipping him over into either direction.
“…Y-yeah, that’s right. He’s- Uh, we’re seeing secretly, so I couldn’t tell you.“ he says, only to add an quick, quiet “sorry” to it, as if that’ll make the sting of the whiplash this shitshow is giving them all any better. He’s not even sure who he’s apologizing to.
His statement, although made up, is in a sense half-true. They were in fact seeing secretly, but not for the reasons implied. The way Kiryu speaks sounds genuine, and Marina’s not sure how to digest it.
“But- but he was about to-" She begins, then trails off as she reconsiders the new information. Her face turns red.
“Oh.” is all that slips out as her eyes trail to Nishiki.
Nishiki, who has not said a single thing so far in this situation, turns to face Marina.
The way she looks at him with a bashful blush on her cheeks is the last straw for him.
“Oh, no, fuck this.” He groans, striding across the damn office, walking close enough that just the size of his frame instantly intimidates her, making her clutch at the shoulder strap of her handbag for a false sense of security. Nishiki’s too frustrated by the absurd situation to notice it, or see her unconsciously take half a step backwards, only to find no room for escape with her back hitting the wall behind her. He’s too concerned on silencing her on this to mind his manners - there's too much on the line for them.
“You… Marina, was it?” His words are carefully selected, but the tone of his voice gives away that he’s clearly rattled by this mess, “You didn't hear a thing and you won’t say a word of this to anyone, right?”
It’s not much of a question with room for options, and more just him seeking confirmation for the statement. His eyes are fixed directly on hers, the corners of his mouth tugging down, brows in a furrow. There’s clear redness on his face, and she thinks he must be livid.
“A-are you threatening me?” She stands firm, despite her clear unease.
Her eyes trail to the family pin glimmering on his lapel, a physical reminder of what this man in front of him is, and where his loyalties must lie. Her eyes dart back to his, and her uncertainty is plain on her face.
It annoys Nishiki, but the waver of her voice makes him aware that he’s probably seriously scaring her. He knows threatening her won’t get them anywhere anymore, but he can’t have her talking about any of this to anyone either.
She’s not the first woman he’s made uncomfortable just by being a yakuza, by acting like a one, and he takes no joy in it. If anything, he dislikes doing this kind of thing to women - he preferred persuasion over intimidation, typically took a more pleasant approach, but the current mood of the situation didn’t really get him in the mood to get flirty.
He’s not threatening her, opting himself to be above that most of the time, but he is still intimidating her, and he realizes it’s not that much better.
He has no idea if this woman can be trusted with even just seeing him be here, not to mention this stupid ruse Kiryu pulled to cover their asses. Still, he knows he’s making her too nervous, so he takes a step back. It makes her visibly relax, little tension leaving from between her shoulders.
Nishiki pushes his hand through his hair, frustrated, trying to find the right words to settle the situation.
“No, I’m not- I’m not fucking threatening you. I’m asking you.” He says and throws a look at Kiryu. “This shit can’t leave this office, you know that right? You really think this was a good idea?”
Kiryu doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to clear this misunderstanding. He’s being quiet to avoid stirring the pot further, but it just irritates Nishiki more.
Nishiki’s not sure if this is any better than being mistaken for extorting Kiryu. It’s clear there’s nothing he can do to improve this situation since he can’t think of any better excuse to offer himself, so he sighs.
“Whatever,” he huffs and steps another step back from Marina. He wants out of here, so he turns towards Kiryu. “I don’t have all day to waste here, so this is your problem now”
Nishiki walks over to Kiryu’s desk, steps loud in the tense silence as he cuts the distance. He looks down at Kiryu with a face that tells he’s done dealing with this mess, only for his eyes to flicker on the takeaway box, and then back to Kiryu. He wants to cuss him out, really, but holds back on the urge.
He wordlessly reaches for the sushi box instead, picking up not only the damn toro, but also the ikura nigiri he knows Kiryu had been saving for last off the box with one hand, shoving the latter in his mouth under Kiryu’s gaze.
He chews and swallows, holding the toro to his lips next, squinting his eyes. “We’re going to have to talk about this… Kiryu.” He speaks, the name being a belated addition to the sentence. Usually, he would’ve called him kyodai there.
And then he’s pushing the small piece that caused this whole affair past his lips, and he storms off.
A painful silence sets into the office once the door slams shut after Nishiki.
Marina bends down to pick up the plastic bag she’d dropped, setting it on her desk to inspect just how badly her leftovers got spilled out of their containers in the drop. The soup has pooled at the bottom of the bag, and she sighs, tying the handles of the bag together before dropping the whole thing into the trashcan.
Kiryu watches her in nervous silence. What should he say here? Should he say anything at all?
He’s not sure, so he doesn’t say anything, waiting for her to initiate the follow up conversation instead, whatever that may be.
After a moment she turns to face him.
“Prez,” she starts off with, leaning against the wall, crossing her arms across her chest.
He sucks a quick inhale in through his nose, tensing, preparing for the worst.
“Why did you tell that man that I’m law enforcement?” She asks, unexpectedly.
He looks at her for a moment without saying anything. He’d expected her to try to pry information about Nishiki out of him, not redirect the conversation towards herself.
Marina is pouting, expressing clear upset over it. She doesn’t seem mad or shocked, just... Upset.
It is then Kiryu remembers that oh yeah, she’s undercover herself, and thus she doesn’t want that fact to get out. She had her own stakes in this, too.
Kiryu feels slightly bad about it just for a moment, but quickly realizes this balances the situation out a little: they both have something they want to keep secret.
“Sorry Marina, it just slipped out,” he starts off with, “but it won’t spread, he knows to not talk.” He says to try to reassure her, but then pauses. He takes a more serious tone of voice as he adds, “If he can trust you, you can trust him.”
She’s rather skeptical of this whole thing, and opens her mouth to ask another question, to demand an answer, but then the phone rings, reminding them that they have work to do, and Kiryu puts the lid back on the damn lunch he never got to finish.
He’ll have to make Nishiki treat him a meal for this.
___
“Why, of all things, did you pick that for an excuse?”
Nishiki isn’t too thrilled about this whole ordeal, and it shows. He’s spilling drops of the whiskey all over the low table because he keeps flickering his eyes up at Kiryu to give him an accusatory stare instead of focusing on pouring the liquid into his glass. He’s pissed off, and the first glass downed the moment he’d stumbled into Kiryu’s apartment hasn’t yet done much to smooth out the frustration this mess has caused in him. It’s not the first mess the table has seen, nor will it be the last, and neither of them reach in to wipe the spilled alcohol off.
Kiryu wordlessly reaches across the table to grab the bottle from him and mimics the movement, refilling his own glass little higher than usual. If they had a few more, maybe they could laugh about the topic, but the conversation couldn’t hold off in hopes of intoxication magically making the situation appear better. They had to tough it out mostly sober, but at least they could drink on the way there.
The fact was that Kiryu hadn’t thought it through in the slightest. It shows clear on his face even now, as he’s trying to come up with a good reasoning for his choice of words. Nishiki can tell this, and it just exasperates him further.
“You could’ve said we’re friends.” Nishiki says, like it’s the most obvious choice. Maybe it was, but Kiryu hadn’t even considered it in the moment.
“I don’t think she would’ve believed that,” he replies, trying to justify his choice, “You know she’s asked me about you, before. I said I didn’t know you, because I thought she’d never see you again.”
This made sense, since one would not lie about not knowing an ordinary friend. He felt like calling Nishiki just some acquaintance wouldn’t be right and calling him his best friend in that moment would have felt clumsy. Somehow, lover had felt like the most logical choice in the moment, even if it made no sense now.
“Yeah? That’s just great.” Nishiki replies, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Nishiki drags his hand over his face, fingers coming down to pinch at the bridge of his nose, just the memory of the whole exchange made him feel like his head was going to start aching. “Shit, she probably thinks we were about to fuck on your table.” he says, trying to imagine the scene from her point of view. It doesn’t look good. With the way he had been sitting on the table, legs spread, with his hand on the front of Kiryu’s jacket... It makes his face flush and brows furrow. “You know, I think I actually prefer the assault version.” His voice comes out as a grumble.
“This is better than you getting arrested.” Kiryu tries to convince Nishiki, even though he’s well aware himself it had been a stupid thing to say. “It could be worse.” He tries to reassure, but he’s not really buying it himself either.
“Yeah? You know that if this gets out to the family, its over for us, right?” Nishiki speaks around the rim of the glass, tipping the drink to let a silence fall between them.
Kiryu takes a sip of his own drink, thinking it over.
“I don’t think she’ll tell anyone,” he says, “she’s undercover, and she doesn’t want that to get out. I know there’s some big job she’s been working on for a long time, and I don’t think she’d risk her cover blowing just to burn you. She’s just skeptical of you since you’re yakuza.”
“Yeah? So what now then?” Nishiki lets out a humorless laugh, “I keep avoiding her and hope she forgets about me? We quit seeing each other outside of just here? If she sees us together again, she’s bound to hound our asses.”
Nishiki doesn’t want any of that. Kiryu doesn’t want that either.
They didn’t have as many chances to see each other these days, and if Nishiki quit dropping by Kiryu’s office altogether, they’d be lucky to see each other few times a month for a meal.
They’d been careful about not being seen together by anyone, enough for the family to assume Nishiki was being obedient.
Nishiki could tell they were keeping less and less tabs on him as time went on, and it was all thanks to him minimizing public contact with Kiryu. It’d been a pain in the ass, and he still started feeling anxious if he was hanging around outside Kiryu’s office for too long. Their time together wasn’t a given anymore, and cutting it even shorter over a stupid misunderstanding was bullshit.
There had to be a way for them to make it work.
“…Maybe we could just keep the lie up.” Kiryu suggests, without really thinking it thorough. It was becoming a bad habit for him.
“Huh?” Nishiki’s eyes snap back to Kiryu’s, mouth hanging open, the glass hovering near his lips, “What’d you say?”
Nishiki thought he heard wrong, but when Kiryu doesn’t repeat himself, Nishiki can only assume the outrageous thing he had heard was what Kiryu had actually said.
“You... want us to seriously pretend we’re dating?” he asks, still in disbelief, seeking confirmation for it.
Kiryu hesitates, looking away. This only makes Nishiki prop him on further.
“Hey, you’re joking right?” He half-laughs, but when he doesn’t get an instant answer, he calls out to him, with a tone that’s a lot more serious. “Kiryu…”
Kiryu should’ve known Nishiki would react like this to the idea, because he’d do just about the same if the roles were reversed. If Nishiki had suggested it, he’d think it must’ve been an elaborate joke to make a fool out of him or something along those lines. He’d sit and wait for the punchline that’s never coming.
“I mean… That way you don’t have to avoid her anymore, when you come by,” Kiryu speaks, and it almost sounds reasonable, if not for the implications of it. He can feel the back of his neck and face heat up, but he keeps talking “It’s not like we have to actually become a couple, she just has to think so.”
Maybe its his foolish stubbornness at play here, but he wants to stand behind the idea now that he’d actually foolishly vocalized it. Even if it was a really stupid idea. He still can’t look directly at Nishiki’s face, so instead he lingers his gaze on the trash scattered by his low table like it’s suddenly so very interesting to look at.
“Fuck, you’re an idiot. This is beyond stupid.” Nishiki’s voice comes out strained.
When Kiryu finally looks at him to argue back, he finds Nishiki just as red in the face as Kiryu himself feels. Nishiki isn’t meeting his eye, and shifts when he feels Kiryu’s eyes on him.
“Nishiki.” Kiryu calls to him, and when they lock eyes, whatever Nishiki finds on Kiryu’s face seems to give him some sense of relief, because he visibly relaxes, even if the heat and hue of embarrassment stays firmly on his skin.
It’s a rather embarrassing thing to consider, for both of them. They’d known each other since they were kids and while they were closer than most friends, dating, even if it was pretend, was a whole another ballpark. The very thought of it was strange, and foreign.
But then again, they’d be in it together.
Kiryu is taking this seriously, and it makes Nishiki consider the situation more properly too.
Since the family offices are so close to Kiryu’s, there’s a very real risk of him running into her again at some point. If he just vanished from Kiryu’s life now, it might come across as suspicious to her, and if she accidentally bumps into him again, who knows how she’d react.
There was also the possibility of Marina getting too curious about him and asking around, risking her accidentally stumbling into Kiryu’s old tracks through him.
Most of the things that involved Nishiki also Involved Kiryu to some degree, and there was no telling how big the pile of records the police might have of them so far is. Even if they had only been small fry in their time together in the family, and they’d mostly kept out of trouble with the cops the past years, they’d gotten caught pickpocketing together as kids a couple of times- there were plenty of things like that. Their tracks overlap.
Maybe easing Marina into his presence was the smartest thing to do here, just to get her to let go of her suspicions towards Nishiki through repeated exposure. They just had to make sure she doesn’t feel the need to investigate or arrest him.
Maybe faking a relationship was a bit unconventional method for it, but surely they could get her to buy into the ruse: Get her to accept him as a completely non-threatening nice guy her boss cares for, who just also happens to be a yakuza. There was nothing else to it.
It’s an absolutely ridiculous idea, but then again, they’ve done a lot stupider things together.
Thinking about it, if Nishiki had to pick someone to pretend to love and lust after, maybe Kiryu wasn’t a too bad pick for it.
There seems to be a lot of things Nishiki wants to say, and Kiryu can’t quite catch what he mutters under his breath but then he huffs, tilting his head to the side.
“I guess we could fake it, temporarily.” he speaks more to himself than Kiryu.
Nishiki looks down, still kind of baffled that he’s even amusing the idea, not to mention leaning into it, so he reaches for his glass. He takes a swig of the drink, lowering the glass slightly only to bring it back to his lips to swallow another big mouthful of the whiskey before locking eyes with Kiryu. It burns as it goes down. He slams the empty glass on the table.
“Just for a while, okay?” Nishiki says as he points a finger at Kiryu “We let her think we’re together just for a while. Then, when things calm down and she’s no longer thinking of arresting me or whatever, we tell her we’ve broke up, and things can be normal again. No cops, no hard feelings- and we forget this mess ever happened.”
Kiryu nods, firm. It sounds like a reasonably good idea.
They’ll just have to pretend for a bit. It doesn’t have to be weird. Maybe they could even laugh about it in a month or two.
That couldn’t be too hard, right?