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He’d called the ambulance. There was nothing to be done, but he had called. They’d collected the bodies to be tagged and identified down at the morgue, what was left of them anyway. Daigo’s mother and a few loyal bodyguards had come for Daigo. Now there was just a big red smear like spilled paint in front of Millennium Tower. And Kiryu. And it didn’t smell like paint.
Sound. Sound approaching. He tried to care, tried to focus on what the sound was, but he just couldn’t. One more death, one more death here, one more death in this wretched fucking place-
“Kiryu-chan!” Majima was almost nose to nose with him before Kiryu realized. He startled, actually feeling his eyes adjust to focus on Majima. Majima stared at him with open concern, his hands on his shoulders.
“Hey Majima,” he murmured, feeling his eyes start to glaze back over already.
Majima sat back. “How long ya been sittin’ here, Kiryu-chan?” he asked, his eyebrows creased in a way Kiryu had never seen.
Kiryu tried to shrug and managed a little movement in his hunched shoulders. “Since Daigo left,” he answered, his gaze drifting back to the puddle just beyond Majima’s back, “I just sat down and… couldn’t get back up.”
Majima turned only marginally toward the smear of horror, then focused back on Kiryu quickly. “Ya shouldn’t be here, Kiryu-chan,” he said in a rough whisper, then without another word reached down and started hauling Kiryu to his feet.
Kiryu stumbled into the forward momentum, his limbs stiff and numb from sitting so long huddled on the concrete step. “Where’re you taking me?” he remembered to ask as Majima didn’t even pause for him to get his balance, continuing to pull him forward and away from the scene with an iron grip on his hand.
“Away from here,” Majima growled, “As fast as I fucking can.” He stopped abruptly only to flag down a taxi and shove Kiryu inside before barking the destination.
Kiryu sat obediently in the taxi. He could see that Majima was agitated, his leg pumping up and down as they rode, his hands unable to settle, but these were distant things, unrelated to Kiryu. He couldn’t think of any reason why this would have something to do with him.
“It’s my fault,” Kiryu whispered, still seeing the pool of blood, the broken bodies in it. His breath came sharp.
Majima hissed and snapped at the driver to go faster, fuck the pedestrians. “I know ya can’t hear me right now,” Majima turned to him, looking at him intently, “But it ain’t. It ain’t your fault.”
Kiryu turned away, a wave of panic rising inside him. It was going to come out, the scream inside, if he could just keep it down a little longer, maybe he wouldn’t break.
The car stopped soon after and Majima pulled Kiryu out, throwing an entire credit card at the driver. He helped Kiryu out of the street and pushed him urgently into an apartment building and then up the stairs.
“Faster than the elevator,” Majima muttered. Kiryu was just glad for a physical distraction.
They arrived on some level and Majima pointed them to some door and then Kiryu was inside an apartment, presumably Majima’s. But Majima wasn’t stopping, even to take his shoes off. He just pulled Kiryu directly into the bathroom, started the shower, and closed the door.
Kiryu blinked at him, then glanced at the shower. “What is this?” He frowned.
Majima turned to him, his face soft, but strained, and he held out his hands as one might hold them up to a large and frightened beast. “Ya shirt’s a bit of a mess,” he explained gently, although not at all answering the question, “Can I take it off ya?”
Kiryu looked down at his shirt, when had he put it back on? He sat heavily on the toilet. Majima was right, it was bound to be dirty and wrinkled and spattered in blood, his blood, Daigo’s, Mine’s… Kiryu swallowed and nodded quickly.
Majima sighed gratefully and knelt in front of Kiryu to fastidiously work through his buttons, not a motion wasted. The bathroom was starting to warm and Kiryu looked into the shower as his skin slowly began to feel like his own again.
“You can take off your shoes if it makes ya more comfortable,” Majima muttered, almost done with his shirt. Kiryu looked down at him just as Majima brought his head up to work the shirt off his shoulders and pull it down his arms. Kiryu let his arms go limp and watched Majima roll up the shirt and stand.
“I’ll be right back,” Majima insisted, “Just going to put this in the wash.” He held up the bundle of shirt demonstratively. Kiryu nodded.
“Sit in the shower if ya like,” Majima offered before stepping out and gently closing the door behind him.
Kiryu did reach down and slip his shoes off. His toes curled into Majima’s bathroom rug. Majima had a bathroom rug? And it was soft too. Kiryu tried to find a good place to put his shoes out of the way and caught sight of his hands, the knuckles ripped open, the palms scraped. He dropped the shoes and shoved his hands under the hot water. It stung. Kiryu bit his lip to keep from crying.
The door opened and Kiryu startled, flinging droplets everywhere.
“It’s only me,” Majima murmured, stepping only close enough to close the door, now barefoot and bare chested himself.
The scream inside was a sob in his throat now. Kiryu choked to keep it down. His cheek ran hot and wet, then both cheeks.
“The shower’s warm,” Majima murmured, “It’ll feel nice.”
Kiryu tucked his arms tight around himself and bawled into his fists, rocking back and forth.
In a moment there were arms around him and Majima, with hardly a struggle, lifted Kiryu off the toilet and carried him into the shower. Kiryu’s cries grew sharper as he felt the water on his back, then subsided, his shaking lessening as the warm spray pounded on his back. Majima held him, standing in the shower with him, then slowly sank to the ground so they could sit together in the tub.
Kiryu gasped roughly at the hot, wet air, the tears starting to slow but his ribs still ached with the sobbing. Majima rubbed soothing circles into his shoulders, around the back of his neck, never letting go of him, not once. Kiryu clung to him, unashamed, one hand desperately latched on his arm, the other hastily wiping away tears and snot. He tried to open his eyes, but the world was dark and fuzzy, his eyes protesting all the light after being squeezed so tight. He lolled his dizzy head against Majima’s arm.
“Let it all out,” Majima encouraged, “You’re okay now.” His fingers pressed at him so tenderly.
Kiryu didn’t feel okay, but he knew what Majima meant. He took a few gulping breaths and tried to open his mouth to speak. His throat closed. He shook his head, not yet, not yet.
Majima squeezed his shoulder. “You’re alright, ya don’t have to say anything.”
Kiryu sniffed, his lungs finally feeling empty. The shaking had stopped completely. Kiryu wiped his eyes and tried to see again. Better this time, he could at least make out shapes. He sat back and Majima’s hands hovered nearby. Kiryu kept his own hand tight on Majima’s arm.
He wiped off his face with his free hand and shuffled around a little so the showerhead wasn’t pouring directly into his face. A little awkward and soppy to do with his pants still on, but he managed. He laid his head back against the tile and panted, staring at nothing. “I fucking hate this place,” he croaked.
Majima blinked and shuffled next to him, moving to be next to him rather than in front of him. “Yeah?” he asked, turning his head to look at him.
“I hate it here,” Kiryu repeated, teeth clenched, “Every fucking time I’m here, someone else dies, someone else suffers and it’s my fault…” His voice failed and he had to take a few fast, shuddering breaths; his chest winced with every one. Majima’s hand found his and pressed firmly on top of it. Kiryu grabbed his fingers and squeezed hard.
“Why can’t it ever be different?” he hissed, thumping his head back against the tile. Majima took his hand back only to make it a cushion against the tile. “Because it’s always like this,” he muttered, “Every time I try to save someone, every time I come back here, someone else dies and I can’t…” Another tear leaked out even though his eyes burned from crying.
“It ain’t your job to save everyone,” Majima said softly, “It ain’t your fault.”
Kiryu’s breath juddered, trying to laugh, but he just hissed. “He was right in front of me!” Kiryu yelped, gesturing to the empty space before him, “He was right in front of me, I could have grabbed him, I could have saved-” His throat closed up again, his breaths coming too fast and shallow to talk. He pressed his thumb helplessly against his forehead, like he could anchor his throbbing brain to that.
Majima pressed close to him, making shushing noises and pressed his firm hands to Kiryu’s back again. Kiryu groaned in relief as Majima’s fingers found where his breathing was tightest and pressed and rubbed and made it easier to breathe again. He whimpered and fell back against the wall, grateful for every second Majima kept his hands on him.
“He just… walked off,” Kiryu hiccupped, a few more tears escaping him, “He was looking right at me and… I was holding Daigo and…” Kiryu had to stop. He shook his head. He didn’t have words for what it had done to Daigo, the noise he’d made.
Majima swallowed and pulled his arm tight around Kiryu’s shoulders in a kind of hug. Kiryu shuddered and collapsed against him. Majima wrapped his other arm around his front and just held him close, rocking him gently in the warm water.
“I’m so sorry that happened, Kiryu-chan,” he whispered eventually, “Ya shouldn’t have had to watch that.”
Kiryu shrugged limply. “Feel sorry for Mine, he’s dead.” His voice shook, but he made himself breathe and keep going. “Besides, wouldn’t be the first time.” The words forced themselves past his teeth and his eyes screwed up to cry again, his jaw trembled. He pushed away from Majima weakly and tried to hide his face in his hands. Majima let him.
“Kiryu-chan?” he asked gently, concerned.
The tears spilled over again, fresh and falsely relieving. Kiryu knew their succor was short-lived and he’d feel bitter and dry soon enough again. He shook his head and tried to wave Majima off.
Majima sat up straighter and just looked at him. “Kiryu-chan, I’m here, you can tell me.”
Kiryu shook his head harder. “No, no,” he moaned through his hands, “No, don’t…” He shuddered, bending low as his breathing protested again.
Majima put his hand on his back. “This thing that you’re feeling,” he murmured, “It’s killing ya. I’m not saying it’ll be easy to let out. But you’ve been carrying it a long time and I’m here to hear it. It will get easier if ya let it out.”
Kiryu sobbed, ugly and indiscreet, into Majima’s spotless tub and was glad the running water swept the evidence away as fast as it came. He panted and wiped his mouth. “It just… it hurts so much,” he gasped, hoarse.
Majima nodded and stroked his spine. “I know,” he agreed, “I know. It’s a damn ugly bastard locked up inside ya. It’d be easier if ya could just take a knife to it and be done. But these things get inside ya and they don’t let ya fight ‘em like that. They live in ya and they get bigger and harder to live with. They crush ya from the inside and don’t even give ya a fair shot.”
Kiryu nodded seriously and sat back slowly. Yeah, it was just like that. He looked over at Majima for the first time and smiled faintly, still nodding.
Majima nodded once. “Let it out.” He shook his head, keeping eye contact with Kiryu. “Don’t care how ugly it is, I’m here with ya. I’m not going anywhere.”
Kiryu cringed and wanted to whimper, to beg Majima to leave him and just let this kill him. But he knew better than to say that. Even on his best day, he couldn’t make Majima do anything. And he was… so far from that right now. Kiryu took a deep breath, feeling the ache in his ribs but also feeling the resolve that exhaustion brings. He looked down into the white tub and breathed. He may as well start now.
“He isn’t…” Kiryu hesitated, the words sticking to his throat, “Mine wasn’t the first person I saw die on that building.” His stomach roiled from sobbing but no more fresh tears came. He breathed and kept going. “I saw… I fought Nishikiyama and… he died too. That sounds like I killed him.” He laughed, rasping. “I- I didn’t, just… he wanted to die. He wanted to redeem himself and he thought that dying was the only way.”
Kiryu looked down at the tub and wrung his hands between his knees. He shook his head slowly. “I never… I never wanted to be back there. On that roof.” He swallowed hard. “He told me, he looked at me the same way. Like this was all he had left. And he needed me to understand, me personally, that this was the best he could do and-” His throat closed again. His vision clouded and he pressed his face into the spray of the showerhead, closing his eyes tight. The water pounding against his shut lids took the pain away for a moment, distracted him from how hard it was to breathe. He sat back after a moment, gasping. Majima put a hand on his shoulder.
“Ya know they had more in them,” Majima murmured, “that they were saying goodbye to.”
Kiryu bit his lip hard. His body wanted to cry, but there were no more tears left. He nodded jerkily and waited for his breathing to recover. Majima squeezed him gently and pressed close enough their sides were against each other.
“I wanted to-” Kiryu gulped, surprised how his voice warbled like a baby bird’s, “I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That there was another way. That he didn’t have to do it.” His throat grew thick but the words squeezed out. “I wanted to stop him,” he gasped and his breathing shuddered, finally easing one of the iron bands around his chest.
Majima wrapped his arms around him again and Kiryu pulled his arms around him too. Putting his hands on someone else, feeling someone solid and still and not in danger, was better than anything Kiryu could have asked for right now.
“But I didn’t-” Kiryu confessed, staring at Majima’s unblinking eye, “I didn’t- I couldn’t- And it’s my fault-”
“Shh, shhh,” Majima interrupted, “No.” He shook his head. “Ya didn’t kill them, ya didn’t kill either of them.”
Kiryu whimpered.
“I know ya feel like ya have,” Majima grimaced sympathetically, stroking Kiryu’s back slowly, “But ya didn’t decide how they felt. Ya didn’t make them feel like that was all they had left.”
Kiryu winced. “But-”
“Ya woulda held out a hand to ‘em, Kiryu-chan,” Majima pronounced, “Ya were good to ‘em, even at the end. That’s why they couldn’t take your hand.”
Kiryu swallowed hard and looked down. Majima ran a hand through his hair. “It ain’t your fault that people get so broken they can’t take help,” he whispered, “and they can’t see another way. Even when ya standing right there.”
Kiryu shuddered but didn’t protest. He hugged Majima tighter, awkward and squelchy in the bath but the surest thing Kiryu had to hold onto.
“I was a bad brother to Nishiki,” Kiryu said after a long moment, his head tucked under Majima’s chin.
Majima grunted sourly.
“I was,” Kiryu insisted, “I didn’t help him when he needed me. I couldn’t help him and we parted badly.”
“Didn’t ya just say he wanted to go?” Majima sighed, leaning back enough to look down at Kiryu’s face.
“But if I’d talked to him, if I’d convinced him-” Kiryu looked up at Majima helplessly.
“How?” Majima groaned with a tired shrug, “He didn’t want yer help, Kiryu-chan. How ya gonna help a guy like that?”
Kiryu chewed his cheek. From the second he’d gotten out of prison, Nishiki had been different. And every moment after he'd slipped further and further away until that fight and at the last second, Kiryu recognized his brother again and- “What if it was my fault he was like that?”
Majima’s eye darkened and he frowned. “Horseshit,” he grumbled, folding his arms.
Kiryu shook his head, sitting up straighter. “I went to prison for him, I left him to fend for himself and… everything went wrong after that.” Kiryu chewed his lip, remembering those long silent years inside while Nishiki lost his sister, his standing, everything that mattered to him. “Maybe I should have let him go to prison or- or- maybe I should have tried to get out quicker-”
Majima splashed him. Kiryu startled and looked up. “Ya talking nonsense, Kiryu-chan,” Majima tsked,“If ya brother was in such hardship with ya going away, for one thing, he shoulda told ya.” Majima held up a finger. “Brothers gotta trust each other and trust is about asking for help too. If ya brother couldn’t trust ya with his troubles then he couldn’t trust ya at all.” He shook his head.
Kiryu sat back, taking that in.
“Second,” Majima raised another finger, “even if ya going away was such a bad thing, ya bro had other people to ask for help. Kazama-san and Kashiwagi-san were still around, not to mention the whole fucking Tojo family,” he snorted. “I didn’t know Nishiki-san too well and we ain’t always the fuzziest bunch but part o’ joining up is having a superior that looks after ya. He was alone only if he wanted t’be.”
Kiryu frowned at that and looked down at his soaking feet as they started to wrinkle in the shallow water. “I’d… like to think he could have gone to them for help,” he acknowledged quietly, “I thought, when I left, that if something happened with his sister he could at least go to Kazama-san.”
“Course ya did!” Majima agreed, “Cause ya were family, you understood that.”
Kiryu nodded hesitantly. “Nishiki didn’t always know when to ask for help though and Kazama-san didn’t… he wasn’t always attentive, so-”
“Nah, now, that brings me to three,” Majima interrupted, ticking off his third finger, “Even if ya were the last person he could count on and even if it was the sky falling in-” He stopped and shook Kiryu’s shoulder, making him look him in the eye before he would continue. “Even if all that were true, ya weren’t responsible for what happened outside while you were inside.”
Kiryu’s eyebrows creased, but Majima shook his head firmly. “Nuh-uh, Kiryu-chan. Ya good, but ya not that good.” He smirked, jostling Kiryu’s shoulder again. “Even you can’t control what ya weren’t there for.”
Kiryu let his lips quirk slightly. “I guess that makes sense.” He looked past the tub, out to Majima’s soft bath rug, left wrinkled where Majima had hastily picked him up to dump him in here. Kiryu hugged his knees tight. “But it still feels… it still feels like it should be my fault. I was his older brother.” He swallowed.
Majima sighed deep next to him and stretched out his legs, hanging them, dripping, over the side of the tub. “Yeah, I know what that’s like,” he muttered, scratching his jaw.
Kiryu glanced over at him, surprised to find Majima staring at nothing in particular. “You do?” he asked. He watched Majima clear his throat uncomfortably.
“Yeah,” Majima answered after a moment, “yeah, I do.” He looked down and dragged his hand lazily through the clear water between them. “Ya wanna hear the story, Kiryu-chan?”
Kiryu blinked and looked down at his hand. Not giving himself time to think about it, Kiryu slipped his fingers through Majima’s. He nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he echoed softly.
Majima held still for a moment, then squeezed Kiryu’s hand and started, “I had a brother, once.” He swallowed. “Ya might’a heard that.”
Kiryu’s eyebrows constricted, trying to cast his mind back, but even his own relations were hard to remember right now, much less anyone else’s.
“Eighteen Count Saejima,” Majima explained, after Kiryu’s silence became obvious ignorance.
Kiryu’s eyes widened. No, he had to have heard that wrong.
Majima blew out the rest of his breath and nodded gently. “Yep, Eighteen Count Saejima,” he repeated, “That’s my kid brother.”
“Kid?!” Kiryu spluttered before he could stop himself.
Majima blinked at him. “Well, yeah, he’s a year younger than me.”
Kiryu stared and then willed himself to blink away. “Carry on,” he muttered, keeping his hand in Majima’s.
“He’s only in jail because of me,” Majima continued, sucker punching Kiryu again.
Kiryu gaped. Majima ignored him this time and looked down. “I was supposed ta be with him, I should be sharing his jail sentence with him,” he muttered, “But… things went wrong and I wasn’t there. And now my little brother’s in jail because of me.” He closed his mouth and leaned back against the tile.
Kiryu tried to cobble together what he’d just heard, tried to reconcile Majima with the most notorious murderer and traitor Tojo had ever seen. It wasn’t just an unlikely pair, if Kiryu knew Majima, he’d never stomach existing with someone like that, much less being sworn brothers. But if that was true then… there was something here Kiryu didn’t understand. “How…” Kiryu swallowed, “You say it was your fault. How do you mean?” He squinted at him.
Majima sighed heavily. “What does it matter?” He shrugged, turning away from Kiryu. “Things went wrong, I was supposed to be there and I wasn’t. And maybe if I’d been there I couldn’t have helped but…” He turned back to Kiryu abruptly and looked him in the eye. “At least I’d be in jail, at his side, where I’m supposed to be.”
Hearing those words suddenly cleared up a lot of things about Majima that had never made any sense. Why would a man with so much drive be trying so hard to get punished? Kiryu’s mouth parted. “You…” Kiryu gasped, blinking fast.
“He thinks I betrayed him,” Majima said steadily, sitting up and facing Kiryu, “I did.” His eye flicked away. “I did betray him,” he mumbled, “I deserve…” He bit his lip.
Kiryu blinked hard and put a hand to Majima’s shoulder. “Wait, what?”
Majima shook his head. “Never mind, doesn’t matter.” He wouldn’t meet Kiryu’s eye again.
Kiryu’s brain reeled, trying to keep up. He squeezed his eyes shut, but kept holding on to Majima’s shoulder. “I don’t know what all happened,” Kiryu started, slowly opening his eyes, “But you wouldn’t just walk out on someone you made a promise to.”
Kiryu could hear Majima swallow. “It don’t matter. I didn’t show and that’s all Saejima’ll ever know,” he whispered.
“It does matter,” Kiryu shook him, “You… Majima, you would never do that to someone.” Kiryu heart beat in his throat as he said it but he kept going. “If you couldn’t make it, I don’t know what the hell could’ve stopped you.” Because there was nothing, nothing Kiryu could think of that would have stopped Majima from anything he decided to do. Kiryu paused, chewing his lip. “But I- I know it wouldn’t have been your fault,” Kiryu finished, mouth twisting with worry.
Majima finally looked up at him and there were tears in his eye. He hiccupped. Kiryu gave up on understanding and just hugged him. Majima trembled in his arms and Kiryu held tighter. He didn’t say anything, just listened to Majima’s shuddering breaths rushing past his ear. This was probably why Majima knew that things had to be let out.
After several minutes, Majima put his head down on Kiryu’s shoulder. “They took me,” he began hoarsely, gripping Kiryu tight, “They got me, before I could meet Saejima. And they- I-” He gulped. “It was a set up, Kiryu-chan. They didn’t care about Saejima, they just wanted… me,” he gasped and sat back.
Kiryu stared at Majima, holding up in his mind the fractured pieces of Majima’s past and trying to fit them together.
Majima blew out a long breath and wiped off his messy face. He said nothing more, his attention seeming far away.
“So, uh,” Kiryu interrupted as gently as he could. Majima still startled, looking up at him. “They…?” Kiryu asked hesitantly.
Majima swallowed hard, his eyebrows drawing down, and all at once Kiryu could guess what had happened, what they had done… Kiryu’s breath left him hard. “Fuck,” he gasped.
Majima lowered his head. “I was too smart, Kiryu-chan,” he muttered, “Always have been. But not smart enough to get out of it.”
There were a lot of things Kiryu wanted to say at once, but he held his tongue. Majima would probably hit him if he tried to say half the things he wanted to. He knew better than to try that. Instead, he scooped Majima back into his lap and held him close.
Majima snorted softly, but relaxed into his grasp, draping his long limbs around him. “What’s this, Kiryu-chan?” he asked, his voice almost back to normal.
“Just…” Kiryu sighed, leaning his chin against Majima’s shoulder, “I know you don’t want me to tell you it wasn’t your fault, but… you were stopped. And you were stopped trying to get to your brother and… that never should have happened.”
Majima sat back, looking sharply at Kiryu.
Kiryu just swallowed. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t blink.
Majima bit his lip and looked away. “Well, that’s what happens to sharp blades like us, right?” he joked, but he swallowed after it.
“Right,” Kiryu agreed, lips quirking slightly.
Majima glanced back at him. “I’m about soaked to the bone in all this wet.” He shook himself demonstratively, splattering water everywhere, making Kiryu flinch, even as he smiled. “What’d’ya think, Kiryu-chan?” He flipped his hair back, grinning.
Kiryu smiled back and carefully reached over his head behind him to shut the shower off. “I think we’re good now.” He nodded.
Majima’s grin grew even wider and he stood, quickly pulling Kiryu up too. “Good, ‘cause I always wanted ta have ya over for a pajama party.” He stepped out onto the rug, dripping everywhere and shaking again, possibly just to get more water everywhere.
Kiryu raised an eyebrow, opting for the bath towel hung on the rack instead. “Oh yeah?” he asked, debating stripping off the rest of his clinging, soaking clothes in front of Majima or not.
“Mmmhmm, critical bonding step, Kiryu-chan.” Majima nodded seriously, opening the door and stepping out with soggy step around the corner. “Oh, and I don’t have any pajamas in your size,” he called out.
Kiryu rolled his eyes before following him.