Archive of Our Own

“So you’ve been busy huh?”, A deep voice asked quietly. Nishiki opened his eyes to look at it’s owner.

“…Kiryu?”

He was confused. Where was he? How…?

Looking around, he realized it was the Serena, but Kiryu himself looked…different. For one he was wearing that tacky suit he chose back during the bubble. His face also seemed much younger than he remembered, somewhat less scowl-y and more…relaxed. Well, by Kiryu standards anyways. His expression was gentle, something he hadn’t seen on the man in years.

Nishiki suddenly felt a lump in his throat, a feeling of unease spreading through him. It’s as if something terrible is about to happen, or maybe it already has. He honestly couldn’t tell.

More than that he felt like he should be wary of this place. A bit cautious. But he felt nothing. empty. As if he had lost something important. Despite his best efforts he still couldn’t tell what it was and thinking about it made his head hurt. The right side specifically.

Scratch that, it felt like the whole right side of his face was on fire, a fierce burn spreading across it. He gave up on any hopes of deciphering what is going on and sighed.

”It’s been a long time”, Kiryu said quietly. He had been behind the bar counter all this time, silently watching Nishiki and wiping a glass with a white cloth. It’s an odd thing for Kiryu to do, Nishiki thought. He doesn’t remember Kiryu ever working behind the counter. It was someone else’s job but he couldn’t…he couldn’t remember who.

God, this was confusing.

Kiryu poured Nishiki some whisky with practiced efficiency, smooth as if he had done it all his life. There is no ice in it but Nishiki didn’t care. He grabbed the glass and downed in it one swoop motion. The liquid burnt as it went down but it did nothing to soften the mass in his chest. It sat heavy there, a lump he cannot claw out or run away from.

"Did you miss me?”, Kiryu asked.

What an odd question.

“…I don’t know.”

“I see.”

“…Don’t look at me like that.”

“LIke what?”

Whatever Nishiki was about to say died in his throat. Like what exactly? Kiryu has always looked at him with kindness. Most people could barely discern the differences in the man’s expression but Nishiki always could. He could tell what Kiryu was thinking with just a glance. He had always thought it was not just Kiryu being hard to read, it was just other people not caring enough to decipher him. The man practically wore his heart on his sleeve.

And right now, there was only one word for the expression in his face. Pity. Cold hard pity.

Nishiki despised it.

“Like you’re better than me. No need to rub it in.”

Kiryu looked at him as he has lost his mind. “What are you saying? I’ve never thought that.”

Nishiki scoffed. “Yeah sure.”  Good old Kiryu, as clueless as ever.

He must’ve known it at some point right? That out of the two of them, Kiryu was the better man? The legendary dragon of dojima, and the weak koi he keeps around because of baseless sentiments. The one that struggled helplessly against the upcurrent of Kiryu’s legacy yet always doomed to-

“Nishiki.”

Kiryu’s voice interrupted his thoughts and he looked up at the man annoyed.

“What?”

“…”

God, he must look pathetic right now. Kiryu’s gaze cuts sharp like a blade and Nishiki feels naked against it. He can almost feel himself bleed out, the warmth draining from his body as the world around him seems to get colder.

Kiryu poured him another drink, seemingly ignoring whatever expression he’s making right now. “I missed you, yknow. I really did.”

“Stop.”

The word was meant to sound final, a clean cut, but it came out more like a petulant child's demand than anything. The bar suddenly feels suffocating and he can’t breathe.

“I can't lose you too. Please.”

Nishiki wanted to run. To scream. To grab the nearest thing and bash it against Kiryu’s skull, anything to escape this moment. Instead, he watched in horror as the face in from of him flickered, blending with the last face he wanted to see at the moment. A certain bartender that once loved him but ended up as just another means to a end.

“Nishiki”, it said, a reverbration of Kiryu and Reina’s voice. A hand reached out and he recoiled in fear.

He needed to get out of here. This suffocating place. The floor painted with red from Reina’s blood. The spilt drink from when Kiryu lunged at him at their reunion. Shinji’s screams as he threw himself between his men and Reina, dragging their bleeding bodies into the nearby alley.

”I don’t hate you.” ‘Kiryu’ said. “I never could.”

“YOU’RE LYING”, Nishiki heard himself scream. “I-I need to leave. How did I even get here? All I remember is the millennium tower and then-” He tumbled back over some chairs, squarely hitting the ground. Scrambling onto his feet, dashed for what he remembered to be the door outside.

Nishiki opened his eyes in agony, gasping for air like a fish out of water. He could hear voices talking around him urgently but nothing made sense. The overhead lights were too bright and all he could do was whimper as they hurt his vision. He suddenly felt someone lift him up and he tried to get away from the touch, the pain, but he could barely move his limbs as he’s thrown onto a bed without any care. People moved around him in haste while he struggled to stay awake, afraid of what would happen if he lost consciousness.

With the final bit of strength he has, he raised his head a bit and looked down on himself. There was pain, so much pain, but there were also red bandages wrapped around his torso. It looked…horrifying, to say the least. And is that burnt flesh?  He could hear distant screaming, was that his own voice? “Knock him out”, he vaguely made out someone say before he felt a mask held to his face, and the world slowly faded away.