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He’d been at it for hours.
His back felt stiff and broken as he hunched over, grunting. His shoulder had been giving painful signals for a while now, twitching starkly, impairing some of his moves. Threads snapped, fabric yielded, joints cracked, his teeth rattled.
Goro cursed, his voice barely more than a low grumble that screeched in his throat. His legs were numb by now and part of him knew he would probably limp for a while but it didn’t matter.
None of it mattered as his eye narrowed on his target.
His vision blurred at times and he furiously blinked, irritated at the brief loss of focus and the maddening headache he felt pulsing in his skull.
“I ain’t done…” he growled under his breath, frustration and willingness fighting hard in his chest, warmth spreading again in his limbs as he grinned with renewed energy. “I ain’t fuckin’ done! Heehee! Ain’t no stoppin’ till…”
His hand slipped.
The pain flared. Sharp. Bright. He yelped. His hands twitched, dropping everything to the ground as Majima tucked his finger into his mouth, wincing and nearly biting off the small patch of skin he had just stabbed.
He expected to taste blood. He didn’t.
Goro looked at his finger.
“Why’s it hurt THAT much! Ain’t even fuckin’ bleedin’!” he glared at the thread and needle bundled on the floor. He wanted nothing more than to burn or throw the damn thing over the window. But then his eye trailed to the small piece he’d been working on.
He frowned at it at first.
And then grinned.
“Makin’ it closer to the real thing, yeah?”
---
His body almost refused to move. He had to push against the ground with his hands to give himself some momentum. His legs unfolded heavily.
Damn PINS started racing from his toes to his knees, filling his bloodstream. His vision went dark.
Goro shook his head in irritation, nearly losing balance.
Just how fucking long had he been at it now?
His eye narrowed on the small alarm clock tucked on the ground. He could barely make out the number in the dark.
Dark?
He stared out the window.
The sky was black, only lit by the flashy neons and street lamps of the city.
Last time he had checked, the sun was set somewhere up, trying to fry whoever was stupid enough to stand beneath it for too long.
The air was still thick with warmth, loaded with that smell of burnt asphalt.
Goro licked his dry lips. He had thrown his jacket somewhere around, his back dripping with beads of sweat. He recovered it along his gloves and eye-patch, wiping the damn thing on his thigh.
He HATED the heat. Hated how it made the whole eye-patch all the more unbearable when sweat started pooling beneath it, soaking his scarred eyelid until it itched and started swelling.
Well, there was ONE type of heat he loved though.
He grinned at the thought.
It had been long enough since last time. Goro supposed a handful of hours were more than enough in this dump of a city to get stuffed with food and grab a few hours of sleep.
He collected his work from the ground, his grin widening.
“Yer my ticket for one o’ the best treat on earth, cutsies!” he chirped. “Ol’ Goro’s meal time is near!”
He tucked them into the inner pockets of his jacket, fumbled with the eye-patch a bit, and left the messy apartment without even bothering locking the door behind him before hitting the city streets.
The whole time, he joyfully hummed some song that sounded so off-key he wasn’t sure himself what the song was anymore.
---
“There ya are!”
His voice came out raw at first, loaded, but rose up fast, his eye widening, his brows lifting and his grin hurting his face as it cracked wildly.
“Kiryu-chan!!!”
His body whirled to align with his sight, the hunger in the pit of his stomach receding, excitement wiping off the weight he felt dragging his body down along the neon-lit streets.
Goro locked onto his target, thrilled, his legs already picking up a fast jog.
Kiryu spotted him with a frown.
“Majima-no-niisan.”
For a beat, Goro hoped he would RUN. Nothing would feel better than a good Dragon chase across the streets, screaming and laughing while hopping over obstacles, never losing sight of his prize.
It had been one of Goro’s fantasies these days.
But Kiryu NEVER ran away.
The damn ox would just stand there like a wall of brick Goro loved to hurl himself at. It didn’t beat the thrill of the chase, but it came close second to be able to throw EVERYTHING he had and see whether the wall stood still. Or hurled him back.
Kiryu didn’t move as Goro closed in on him.
Goro ALMOST leapt, fingers itching to drag his dagger out and see how the dragon would handle him landing directly on him.
But he forced himself to keep both feet on the ground, to slow his pace and stop a few inches out of Kiryu’s arm’s reach. He didn’t trust himself in getting any closer. His blood was racing already.
Kiryu studied him up and down with that usual frown. His grey suit jacket was folded on his arm. Even the Dragon struggled in that summer heat. His deep red shirt was slightly damp with sweat and the skin visible where he had opened his collar was glistening.
Goro felt his eye narrowing on it.
His hands twitched in his gloves, his breath hitched as he thought about how it would FEEL to punch him now, to struggle with that heat smothering them.
He didn’t want that fight, he NEEDED it.
The friction, the struggle, the heat, the bloody adrenaline.
“Thought I’d find ya here!” Goro chirped. “Too damn hot fer the dragon, now? Thought ya could use a distraction yeah?”
“I’m not going to fight you, niisan.”
Goro flinched, annoyed. Hurt, actually.
“WHAAAT?!” he snapped, brows furrowing, anger rising in his chest. “After all the trouble I went fer ya? Yer not even gonna listen to my proposal?!”
A confused frown flashed on Kiryu’s face.
“Ugh… A propo-…” he shook his head, washing away the confusion. “Tch. What are you scheming again?”
“SCHEMIN’?!” Goro yelled, offended, flinching harder, his arm flailing angrily. “Yer hurtin’ my feelin’s here, Kiryu-chan! Ya leave me no other choice!”
He reached into his jacket’s inner pocket. The one close to his heart.
Kiryu’s stance tensed, his eyes narrowed, his fists clenched and Goro just KNEW Kiryu expected him to draw his dagger.
His hand lingered inside his jacket. A smile tugged at his lips, ruining his angry show but he couldn’t help it. Kiryu should know by now that his dagger was tucked BEHIND his back, but the man WAS an ox.
Which made every new scheme just better than the last.
Goro grabbed his work in his hand and flung it out of his jacket like it WAS a weapon.
Within the blink of an eye, Kiryu went into his fighting stance.
And was faced with…
A plush.
Kiryu blinked and froze. He frowned, staring back at the plush that bore a very similar expression to his. Furrowed brows, dark look, mouth in a tight line. The head was bigger than most of the body. A head with slicked back black hair directly drawn onto the fabric. Along with a grey suit and a red shirt.
“BWAHAHA! Lookit that!” Goro burst out, bouncing on his feet, brandishing the plush. “Clocked it! That expression of yers! Ya could be twin!” he marvelled, drinking in Kiryu’s utter confusion.
The plush DID bear a resemblance. He’d spent long enough watching that frown that he was sure he could draw it perfectly well. It had taken Goro quite a few trials and errors to get it right on fabric, but now, Kiryu’s stare was… priceless.
“Urgh… Did you… Sew this? Is that supposed to be me, niisan?”
Is Kiryu-chan THAT dumb? Goro frowned.
“‘Course it’s ya! Look!” he reached into his jacket again, drawing out a second plush. “Thought it would feel lonely, so I made it a buddy! How’s it look?!”
Awful, Goro thought to himself.
He knew. That’d been the one he nearly spent half of his fingertips on. It still didn’t look right. He’d been thrilled with the result of Tiny Kiryu-chan. But the other one plainly looked like a ragged cloth wrapped in a dubious snakelike pattern.
He’d tried to wipe that small blood stain on its chest with no effect.
In the end, he had decided that THIS was perfect actually.
He’d keep the good one and gift the atrocity to Kiryu.
ANYBODY in their right mind would feel offended by such a gift.
Kiryu was definitely going to whack his head hard this time.
No restraint.
Goro felt his limbs trembling in anticipation.
Kiryu curiously reached for the plushies.
Goro snatched them away.
“Whatcha think yer doin’?” he spat.
“You asked me to look. That is what I did.“ Kiryu replied, unfazed. “I suppose that second plush is meant to be you? It has an eye-patch.”
Goro’s mind blanked out. His hand froze in midair. He sucked in a breath, as if he’d been shot in the chest.
Why did that hurt now?
Both plush got tossed back in his inner pocket.
“Yer callin’ me ugly now, Kiryu-chan?” he said, his voice dropping.
Kiryu shook his head.
“Nope. I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did!” Goro barked, jaws tightening. This time his hand fetched the dagger. He drew it out, lowering his stance, his muscles coiling, his chest rumbling. “You just insulted me, Kiryu-chan! I ain’t lettin’ that slide! Not even fer ya!”
“Eh… That was what you were aiming for, all along.” Kiryu said, a small tired smile tugging at his lips. He tightened his fighting stance too. “Come at me then!”
Goro didn’t need to be told twice.
He sprang forward.
“I’m comin’ at ya, Kiryu-chan!”
---
The sky was dark still. Lit with colorful street lights.
It wasn’t what took all breath out of him though, but rather the massive store front board that had been hurled at him.
He didn’t remember crashing down.
He remembered the impact crushing his ribcage, flattening his lungs, the loud crack that could either be his bones or the wood frame of the board.
Goro tried to rasp a breath. He wheezed. He had blood in his mouth. He swallowed it, gasping for more air.
His head throbbed, his ears were ringing, his body sending mixed signals of pains, opening for him another world of hurt he knew nothing about.
But the voices were gone.
That low maddening buzz endlessly coursing through him had finally stopped.
Goro closed his eye and basked in that sudden RELEASE he felt. If he stayed like this, his mind would sink in a blissful rest. He knew.
Kiryu did this.
Every single time.
A shadow loomed over Goro though.
He tried to open his eye.
“Tell… dumb… Nishida… where ta… pick my bones, yeah?… Gonna take a nap…”
His voice was hoarse. Talking burned parts of his throat and chest he didn’t know existed and he was practically sure he had either a broken tooth in the back or he had bitten his cheek at some point.
But he didn’t care.
The storm had passed.
He closed his eye again, content.
A hand softly took his. Usually he wouldn’t have cared, but this was the hand he had whipped across his chest to protect the damn plushies when Kiryu had wielded that board against him.
Goro realised he still clutched them through his jacket. He tightened his grip.
“… Niisan?”
“Hands off! That’s… mine!” he retorted, annoyed at the interruption. “Lemme sleep now… Comin’ back fer ya later…”
He wanted to drift back. His hand was pushed away. His eye snapped open just in time to see Kiryu grabbing one of the plushies.
The ugly blood stained one.
It looked ridiculously small into the Dragon’s palm.
“What’re ya-”
“You said you made it for me. I’m taking it.” Kiryu’s voice said from somewhere above Goro. “Eh. Not bad. It’s… actually cute. You did the smile right.”
Goro scrambled to sit with his back against the nearby wall, oblivious to the shocked looks passerby gave him.
Kiryu was already walking away. Goro hardly focused his eye on him, but before Kiryu could vanish in the crowd he saw it.
The plush. Ugly Majima.
Tucked into Kiryu’s back pocket like it was springing playfully out of it.
Goro closed the fingers of his left hand and felt the comforting weight of the Tiny Kiryu-chan as he pressed it to his chest.
Part of him couldn’t believe what had happened.
The other decided that Tiny Kiryu-chan would ride his heart pocket at all times from now on.