[ Gentaro is used to helping Dice out of sticky situations. It's really no surprise when Dice texts him, asking him for help. Gentaro does what he usually does. He leaves the comfort of his home, finds Dice, and bails him out. While Gentaro might sigh about Dice following him home...
There's a reason he doesn't turn him out on the streets. A few reasons, actually. Gentaro keeps his cards close to his chest, but he's finding it a little harder to do that with Dice, especially recently. Then again... Dice makes him want to be a little more honest. It's an odd feeling but not at all unpleasant.
Still. It doesn't mean he won't tease Dice a little. Or a lot. So when they get to Gentaro's place, he lets out a far too beleaguered sigh. ]
Really, I took time out of my busy schedule to rescue you... I do have a deadline coming up. [ He does not have a deadline coming up. ] I wonder, how do you intend to make it up to me, Dice?
[Dice does have the unfortunate tendency to get into trouble... but it's hard to even want to learn to avoid it with buddies like Ramuda and Gentaro having his back. When you're supported by people who only give you hell in exchange for help, it's not half bad.
...especially when it comes to Gentaro, though, Dice feels a little like he's taking too much advantage of things. It's not that it bothers him. It's more like he wonders why he even bothers to ask Ramuda when half the time his answer is just laughter. Gentaro, on the other hand, never says no. He just gives Dice one hell of a trolling. But he always ends up with a comfortable place to sleep and a hell of a sight in the morning.
Maybe that's weird to think about. The fact that he likes watching Gentaro make him coffee, since the man doesn't trust him to try to make his own. That he's a little fond of seeing Gentaro when his hair is sleep-mussed and he looks slightly unkempt. He actually even likes the nights before, too, watching Gentaro write a bit before bed, or hounding him about a book he's reading that Dice wouldn't understand. He thinks the guy looks calm and peaceful doing stuff like that.
And then again, Dice, thrill seeker that he is, kind of wonders what Gentaro would look like as he frays a little, as he lets go to more than just sleep or particularly impassioned lying. He doesn't want to admit that he's thought about it, tried to imagine it.
But topics like this are safer. It's easy to forget those other thoughts when he's on his knees ready to beg to stay the night.]
Make it up to you? Y'know I'll do anything!
[Clean his bathroom! Wash the dishes! Go fetch groceries!]
[ If it's weird, then count Gentaro in on that. Seeing Dice asleep in Gentaro's space does something to him. After all, underneath all the layers and finery, Gentaro's only human. And Dice is terribly beautiful. Gentaro is often touchy with him, flirts freely with him, and while it had at first been nothing more than playful teasing, Gentaro's quickly realized that it's all completely genuine.
He wonders if Dice has noticed. He wonders what would happen if Dice suggested that he's noticed. Honestly, Gentaro isn't sure how he'd handle that, but... there's a part of him that very much wants to find out. After all, Gentaro likes seeing Dice in the morning, and sometimes, he catches himself thinking about waking up curled against Dice. Those thoughts, that desire to cross that delicate, fragile line, are at odds with Gentaro's well-hidden fear of being left alone, of worrying that if he were to just go for it, things would change for the worse.
...
But Dice really does look lovely on his knees. Gentaro considers the other man carefully--the curve of his neck, the way his hair falls into his eyes, how Gentaro would like to sink his hands into it--
Ah. Well. Gentaro, to his credit, manages to keep his cool. What he does instead is reach out and cups a hand beneath Dice's chin. He leans in. ]
Anything? You know, Dice, that is a terribly dangerous offer to make....
[ Gentaro prefers quiet mornings. They're the status quo for him, which he's fine with; he's been alone for so long that it's comfortable. He doesn't mind waking up to the sunrise, to the silent stillness that so frequently permeates his apartment. He likes waking up at his own pace, without having to worry about another person.
Gentaro prefers being alone... but strangely, recently, he's found that someone else occupying his space isn't terrible.
Dice is still asleep. He'd crashed here last night, as he's wont to do. Gentaro can hem and haw all he wants, but they both know that if he truly didn't want Dice in his space, he'd have kicked him out. Gentaro's an intensely private person, but recently... he has been, perhaps, a little less private. It should bother him. It should gnaw at him from within, make him uncomfortable. But Dice-- Dice is so earnest, so honest, and Gentaro finds himself drawn to that.
He finds himself thinking about Dice, those rare moments they aren't in each other's company.
He watches him for a few moments more before he goes to the kitchen and prepares a pot of coffee. Once it's done, he pours two cups, prepares them to preference. He's quiet as he moves around, as he glances over at Dice every so often. It should worry him that Dice looks like he belongs here.
He should, he should, he should-- He should stop overthinking, take a page out of Dice's book some time.
Gentaro lowers Dice's cup right in front of his face, so the scent is impossible to miss. At least if Dice startles awake, Gentaro quickly pulls it away--it won't do to make a mess, or shower Dice in hot coffee. ]
[Dice sleeps soundly when he's here, and that combined with Gentaro's cat-quiet walking in the mornings means he's still solidly out of consciousness even as the coffee is being prepared. It's lucky Gentaro is in the kitchen, lest he be subject to Dice's pre-awakening sleep muttering.
The dream he's having is a good one. He's content with it, even if it'll never quite be reality. But it leaves him a little wanting of something when the smell of coffee nearby finally does make him peek open one sleepy eye.
God, if Gentaro isn't just as radiant with the morning sun filtering in behind him as he is in Dice's dreams. He's with Gentaro more often than not, these days, and even though Gentaro's playful antagonism and Dice's chronic borrowing haven't changed much, the context in Dice's mind has shifted.
Where Gentaro was once "different" he is now "unique". Where he was "pretty, for a dude" he's entirely the first thing Dice wants to see when he wakes up and the last person he usually sees at night. He could get used to this, even if it may never really tame him.
He opens both eyes now, inhaling deeply as he scoots to sit up against the arm of the couch, a smile chasing the yawn he accidentally offers in response to the waking. Dice's hands close around the cup, which necessitates their hands touching for a moment, and he looks deep into the pitch black coffee. There's sugar in there, but no cream. He knows it'll be perfect. Somehow this is the one thing Gentaro never pranks him on.]
[ The ghost of that touch lingers even after Gentaro settles next to him. They're close. Touching has never been exactly rare with them, but Gentaro wonders if it holds as much weight to Dice, too. He finds that he craves Dice's touch; he still teases him, flirts openly with him, pranks him and slings lies and jokes like he's in a perpetual battle, but the touch...
Sometimes, he finds himself wondering what it would feel like for Dice to brush his fingers along his bare skin, to feel Dice's warmth against him.
He quickly chases those thoughts away with a sip of coffee. God, though, if Dice isn't absolutely, heartwrenchingly beautiful first thing in the morning, still half-awake. Gentaro adores Dice's fire, the way his eyes light up when he's particularly passionate about something, but this is precious. It's something he's sure very few others see.
If Gentaro were an artist, he'd paint masterpieces in Dice's honor, his image. ]
You slept well, I hope?
[ Gentaro's close, so close that their hips are nearly touching. He aches to move closer, wrap himself up in Dice, but his serene expression betrays none of that. ]
[ So... what he'd intended to summon was a demon that could help him in accomplishing his admittedly lofty goal of revenge. Somewhere along the way, he'd made a mistake, and... well.
Now he's got a spectacularly lazy demon sharing his space. Gentaro isn't necessarily complaining, because Dice is as beautiful as he is easily worked up. And--he won't admit this--but he's grown pretty fond of him. Take the bond out of the equation, and Gentaro wouldn't even toss him out onto the streets.
Besides, there are some serious perks to living with a demon like Dice. Like now, when he's seated firmly in Dice's lap, fingers trailing along his horns. He very much likes how his demon reacts, and judging from Gentaro's smirk, he's not about to stop any time soon. ]
Doing alright, Dice? [ he murmurs, lips brushing against his ear. ]
[Dice was the laziest demon in Hell, and now he's the laziest demon on earth, but there's something about his master that offers a thrill he hasn't felt in decades. Gentaro seems on the outside to be an old-fashiones, reticent, pious sort, but he's never been that when they're alone together. Together, no pretenses present, they burn as hot as the fires Dice came from.
His hands rest on Gentaro's hips, fingers curving against his scant undergarments. His own clothing will burn away at a moment's notice, but for now he hasn't been pushed quite that far. That, and he's enchanted by the touches he's receiving, distracted by Gentaro's heat.
He shivers at the caress to his horns, grinning broadly. Chin tipping up, he practically purrs.]
[ Gentaro doesn't show this side to anyone else, mostly because before Dice, it hadn't been there. Dice coaxes it out of him, brings it to the surface, and while Gentaro had been unsure at first... Now, he enjoys it. He doesn't admit it in any certain words, but the fact that he's often the one initiating touches and kisses speaks for itself.
Dice always responds so beautifully, and Gentaro is nothing if not a sucker for beautiful things. He holds onto his horns more firmly, lightly pulling his head back so he can bite and suck at his neck. And-- just to work Dice up even more, he rocks his hips down against his. ]
[ Humans are interesting creatures, but the one who's had the misfortune of catching Gentaro's eye is downright fascinating. Gentaro almost pities the idiot--he's far too earnest and honest to be fraternizing with the likes of him, but Gentaro finds he can't stay away. It's not like the human discourages him, either. He'd almost expected Dice to lash out at him, to demand he stay away, but curiously, neither of those have happened.
In fact, quite the opposite. Dice returns his flirtations, and that's intoxicating in of itself. Gentaro's prone to teasing and tormenting, but nothing serious; he would never want to hurt anyone innocent. Of course, what they have is far from innocent, even if they haven't actually done anything, but...
Semantics. Anyway.
Gentaro's found him, as he is wont to do. Dice is a remarkably heavy sleeper, so the oni takes his time pawing through the human's belongings. He knows well enough what Dice treasures, and when he finds his prize, he rolls them between his fingers. He's not about to leave, though. Why leave and miss the look on Dice's face when he proposes what's on his mind? It's dangerous that Gentaro wants to stay around someone. But Gentaro has had enough of caution. He can afford to indulge and play for a little while. Beyond that, well--
He doesn't want to think of what he really wants, but he can't stop. So when Dice comes to, there's a pensive look in those glowing eyes as Gentaro lounges beneath a tree, looking as if he owns the damn place. The dice in his long, elegant fingers gently clack together as he plays with them. ]
Ah, he awakens. [ That look turns playful, though there's a hunger behind it as Gentaro watches him. ] You know, you do sleep like a log. It's rude to keep me waiting for so long. I might have to punish you.
[Whatever they do or don't have, Dice would likely say he doesn't care so much. It's fun to be around Gentaro, honestly, so he doesn't really need a reason or to think on it too deeply. Being entertained, thrilled... that's what matters to the budding gambler.
But there is one thing that's always been silently sacred, kept to himself. He's never let Gentaro get his clawed fingers on his precious dice. They're one of a kind, animal bone with carefully painted pips that match Dice's favorite kimono. He's superstitious about them, guarding them carefully, almost always keeping them at hand. But it doesn't make sense to do that when he's asleep. So... Gentaro's figured out when he's most vulnerable and decided to strike. Typical. But he does always show up at the oddest times.
The familiar clack-clack of handled dice wakes him eventually, and he half sits up, groggy. There are two alluring, unsettling eyes looking at him in the dark of the smallest hours of the morning. The sun is far from rising, but Dice registers the sound's source and immediately reaches for his lucky pouch to check...
Gone. They're gone. And those eyes can only belong to one meddlesome creature.]
...bastard. Give 'em back.
[He's alert now, but barely awake physically, moving slowly to arrange his long hair back up into a high ponytail. The blanket he's been resting on under the dilapidated lean-to rustles faintly beneath him.]
[ The thing about Dice is that he's incredibly, painfully obvious.
Gentaro knows it comes from the fact that Dice much more honest than he is. More than that, he's endearing, and has a way of making Gentaro feel like he can let his guard down. At the same time, it's dangerous. He can't afford to let the mask slip, but it's happening more and more frequently.
But-- the guilt he feels is insurmountable. Dice loves a Gentaro that isn't the one he's spent so much time with. It's a bitter pill to swallow. Sometimes Gentaro considers telling him, but-- it's easier to push people away than let them in. As dear as Dice is to him, old habits die hard.
Complicating things even further is that Gentaro's fallen for him, too. Being around Dice is all at once terrifying and exhilarating. He isn't a saint, far from it. The result is that his teasing borders on downright mean, his words more cutting, and Gentaro is just distant enough for it to be noticeable. Even now, as he watches Gentaro write in his living room, Gentaro hardly speaks to him or looks his way.
After all, Dice deserves better than a liar and a thief. ]
[The funny thing about this entire ordeal is that Dice Arisugawa has never been in love before. At first, he wasn't sure what it was he felt, the mix of frustration and elation. He wondered why it suddenly hurt when Gentaro called him stupid, rather than it just making him yell in protest. He wondered why he felt dull and empty when he tried to sleep anywhere but at Gentaro's place. He wondered why even the worst day was better when Gentaro looked at him with those mischievous eyes, and told another patented, idiotic untruth.
The day he figured out he was in love was devastating, for every reason. He'd been stupid and reckless on a high from a win, and he'd let himself embrace Gentaro just a little too long, breathed in his scent just a little too deeply. From that day on, Gentaro had begun to morph into something strange and foreign, something he could never touch or grasp or get to again. It was gradual enough that Dice didn't notice at first, this alienation, but now that he's traced it back to its origin, and he knows it's his fault, it's gut-wrenching and impossible to ignore. And to think he'd spent the first weeks of his realization on a delighted high, thinking how lucky he was to be in love with one of his best friends. They were always together, after all.
It gnaws at him now, the loneliness he feels, and he knows that for once in his life, the abandonment he's experiencing is his own idiotic fault. He still tries to smile, but the smile loses its spark. He doesn't even gamble nearly as much as he used to, but lately the stakes have been escalating unreasonably. He's a wreck. A lovesick, hopeless fool. But he brought this on himself, he wagers, either by coming on too strong or by having the audacity to love someone who couldn't and wouldn't ever love him back.
Still, he suffers it. He needs a place to sleep, so here he is, sitting quietly on the sofa while Gentaro writes or types or plots or imagines. It's all he can do to not stare holes right through him.
They need to talk. Maybe if he gets this out of his system, it'll stop hurting, and he can move on. They can even stay friends. Hell, he wouldn't want it any other way.
He doesn't notice he's tugging at his hair and making a low, frustrated growl until Gentaro clears his throat. Maybe it's coincidental, but his head snaps up and he freezes.]
[ Gentaro prefers to not stay in one place for long.
It's strange that he's been here as long as he has. He knows the reason, but he tries very much to not dwell on it. He should leave, because the longer he stays, the riskier it is.
Gentaro's been here for days, which have turned into weeks, and he can't bring himself to leave just yet. It's foolish to get attached to anyone. His life is a dangerous one. The scars he's accumulated over the years are proof of that. And yet...
It's hard to even think of leaving and never seeing him again. Dice, with his pretty eyes and pretty face, with his wide-eyed naivete and whose life has always been easy, has trapped Gentaro. Of course, Gentaro never intends to tell him. He'll slip away one day, a phantom without an anchor, and Dice will forget about him. Dice deserves better than spending time with a thief; his world is still bright and unsullied.
If Dice is the sun, then Gentaro is a storm of black clouds who brings nothing but destruction to all he touches. It's bad enough that he helps him sneak out sometimes, but Dice has been nothing but excited and enthusiastic whenever he slips out of the palace. Gentaro knows Dice would never reveal where his camp is; he's not that sort of person. Unlike him, Dice is honest. He could be someone Gentaro could trust.
He could, but he doesn't let himself.
Imagine his surprise when Dice collapses near his camp, half-dead. Gentaro had heard of the goings-on in the city, but he's used to disappointment. The world is cruel, and mercy so rarely comes to people who deserve it. It's not that he wants Dice to be cut down; he just knows it's the most likely outcome.
Understandably, Gentaro is alarmed and worried, but he puts on a mask of calm and takes Dice into his care. He watches over him, tends to his wounds, keeps him fed and hydrated as best he can. He isn't used to taking care of people--not for a very, very long time--but this feels natural. And maybe Gentaro cares too much to leave Dice to the cruelties of the world.
That had been a week ago. Gentaro thinks Dice may wake up for real soon, rather than those delirious moments when he coaxes him to eat or drink something. His wounds are nearly healed, thanks to Gentaro's careful tending. All he needs to do is wait... but that's the hardest part. ]
[The fact that it had happened at all was a shock to Dice. He hardly even had time to consider why it was happening, why everyone wanted his head, why they'd tried so hard to cleave it from his body... He was the trusting sort, kind and generous and, he thought, good. But whatever was his undoing was swift, and the reckoning it brought was painful. The queen herself led the revolt, emboldened by Dice's own mother... And the shock of betrayal might be half of why Dice's mind refuses to wake.
He's dreamed off and on since he collapsed in front of Gentaro's camp. He's dreamed of his friend, a king in his own right, who no one ever approved of him consulting or being kind to. He's dreamed of his wife, who he thought might have plenty of cause to hate him, considering things. He's even dreamed of his mother, whose whispers got him into this mess to begin with. But in those dreams, it's always Dice who's the problem. It's always Dice's fault things ended up this way, and he confesses and admits it to their faces, begs forgiveness, dies dozens upon dozens of ways. Perhaps that's why his mind refuses to let him see the truth: that he survived, and he's safe.
Maybe he thinks he ought to be dead.
But something wouldn't let him die without seeing his only friend again. He ducked, ran, hid, did everything he could to survive until he collapsed at Gentaro's doorstep. In fact, though it's been a week, Dice makes Gentaro wait on him for just a few more days before he opens his eyes. He can't see, which is terrifying, but after a few unsteady, terrified breaths he realizes it's because his eyes are covered with something soft and cool. He isn't sure where he is at first, but after those first ragged breaths, he smells a familiar scent of wood and something like plum blossoms. He smells Gentaro.]
[ There are a great many tragedies in Gentaro's life.
Losing his brother, being abandoned as a child, enduring the jabs and jeers of his classmates, watching Ramuda struggle against every cruel thing thrown his way... It's no wonder he feels so weary of the world. One thing he'd never expected, though, is to find himself locked in a cell after an unexpected arrest.
And after an unexpected, painful, heartbreaking betrayal. He supposes there's an upside: His cell is surprisingly nice. Gentaro would call it a normal bedroom, if it weren't for the fact that he can't leave. It's no wonder that anger and bitterness and pain all mix together into something hideous.
Being alone with his thoughts and feelings isn't ideal, but what else is he supposed to do? There are things to read, to write, but he has no intention of making use of them. Even if he did, he can't focus on anything but the cruelty of what Dice has done. ]
[The offer had been too good to refuse, unfortunately. Blood ties meant little to nothing to Dice, but when he'd been told this would not only keep Gentaro out of trouble, but grant Dice himself power, status, and wealth, he eventually bit the bullet and agreed. It might not be the life that suits his heart, but it's what he has to do. It's a shame that Gentaro is locked up, and equally a shame that Dice is back to living under an iron thumb, but he figures he'll get used to it. He was a rich prep school kid with everything handed to him before, and going back to it is... well, it's awkward, but it's not impossible.
Besides, he has to put on a good show for Gentaro. He can't let a shred of remorse show. And he's been promised that the more he breaks Gentaro down for information and the more he treats him like an enemy of the state, the sooner things will be over and the man can go free. It works out, in Dice's head, even if this is going to get ugly before it gets better.
His hair is styled and trimmed, his clothes are immaculate, and for once he's honestly well-fed and rested. His boots click-click on the concrete floor as he heads to Gentaro's cell with two bags and a tray of food. Once he arrives, he peeks in, then knocks on the door.]
[ By all accounts, Gentaro doesn't seem like a stray. He's incredibly well-taken care of and spends his days where only a spoiled pet would go. Of course, it comes with a catch. It's not that Gentaro's owner neglects him or anything like that. It's the opposite, really, but he'd admit that he's grown... bored. At least it's mutual; Gentaro's owner lets him do whatever he wants without any expectations.
It's nice to have that freedom, but Gentaro is someone who craves a bond with someone else, who wants the sort of connection he's never quite been able to find. To be fair, it's partly his fault, because he's slow to trust. Still, he wants very much to find that one person.
At least his preferred cafe just happens to be near the busiest section of Shibuya. Gentaro's a favorite: He gives them plenty of money for food and drinks while he sits and watches people going by. He does always have a book or writing with him; he'd rather not just sit and stare without doing anything else.
It's a fairly normal day when Gentaro spots him. He's especially bored today, caught up in how horribly monotonous everything is. He isn't even sure what it is about him, but he gathers his things up, leaves a hefty tip, and leaves. At least that hair is distinctive enough that he doesn't lose sight of him. ]
The cherry blossoms are lovely this time of year, aren't they?
[ It's just small talk in the park, when they get there. ]
[Life is tough. That's what Dice thinks sometimes--though, notably, not all the time--when he's down on his luck. A losing bet can send him into a tailspin with very little else going his way, and today is just one of those unlucky days. He's done his time begging for a second chance, he's tried to weasel his way out of the consequences he unwittingly, foolishly brought on himself... But today just isn't having it.
So, with his days numbered, he heads to the park. It's always where he goes to clear his head and his woes, and if his last cigarette doesn't last him the whole hour, so be it. At least the cherry blossoms are nice. Kind of dreamy, if you ask him.
Wait. Did someone just--]
Huh?
[He looks to the speaker with a start, dropping his nearly-spent cigarette and burning his hand just a bit in his haste to try to catch it. After a false start or two thanks to his fumbling, he curses quietly, then shakes his hand a few times to get the sting out.]
Uh... yeah. I mean they're usually nice? I get kinda caught up looking at 'em.
[It's been a busy few days since Fling Posse dropped their new LP, mostly for Dice, mostly at the pachinko parlor with the spoils... He hasn't even had time to listen to the other tracks yet. Ramuda had leapt on the chance to make everyone keep their solos a secret when Gentaro suggested it, and Dice didn't have a horse in the race, so to speak. He said he'd listen to them day-of, and went about his recording. It's been days since the drop, and he'll admit he hasn't had time to listen. Well. He hasn't made time. He also has been like his own kind of phantom, in and out of Gentaro's apartment that he's come to live in at odd hours, too eager over double odds at pachinko to make that precious time.
But it ended an hour ago, and he has his spoils--a new jacket for Gentaro that he'll never wear, a silly musical instrument that sounds kind of like a cat meowing, and a couple of illicit extra bucks in his pocket--so he can finally head to what he's called home for months. Something weird happens as he passes a music shop and waits at a crosswalk. Whatever the tune is that he's overhearing is familiar, and he finds himself humming along. It takes a moment for him to realize that he's heard Gentaro humming it to himself late at night, and that lyrics accompany the melody. It must be Gentaro's solo. So, like any dutiful and broke member of a group, he sidetracks himself into the shop and finds the kiosk with the song samples. Putting on the headphones there, he punches up his own first. The mastering is excellent, and he sounds as sharp as ever. Then it's Gentaro's sample that comes on, and though Dice listens casually for a split second, the lyrics hit him like a truck after only a moment.
This is personal. This is raw and unforgiving and broken, and Dice doesn't like it. The person he's come to treasure most in the world is laying his soul bare, and Dice didn't see it coming. He closes his eyes, willing the song to go beyond the sample, but when it switches to the group song he lets out a solid, colorful curse and throws the headphones back onto the stand.
Maybe it's because he knows this is his fault, in a sense, but he's angry. And he needs to make sure Gentaro is okay. Things start to make sense on the walk home. Gentaro being more distant lately makes sense. Gentaro hiding the contents. Gentaro refusing to smile despite all of Dice's antics. Gentaro wanting to sleep alone. Dice isn't the sort to internalize things or take blame onto himself, but even he isn't so stupid as to think that Gentaro's pain has nothing to do with his actions. And more than that, he's kicking himself for forgetting to listen sooner. He can't take the blame for his mother's tyranny, but he can take responsibility for his role in Gentaro retreating into a sort of closet.
He arrives back at the apartment and lets himself in, not expecting to be alone. But Gentaro is out. So Dice, gifts that now seem meaningless on his lap, waits on the couch...]
It's no one's fault but his own. Logically, he knows he should come clean. Dice and Ramuda are both precious to him in ways he'd never expected. That's what makes it all the more difficult, though. If he were to tell them the truth, what would that mean? He tries very, very hard to not think about it.
It had been so easy to lie in the beginning, because there was no way he would have thought they would burrow their way under his skin into his very being. He's a part of them as much as they're a part of him, but... It's near impossible to not feel guilty about it. The Yumeno Gentaro they know lays in a hospital bed, sustained only by wires and machines.
The manuscript had been the last thing he'd had of his brother, and he'd willingly given it up to save Ramuda. He would do it again, because Ramuda's life is worth more than his.
All that remains now is a pale imitation of the original manuscript. Gentaro knows it by heart, memorized it top to bottom, word for word, as if it's a living thing tucked away in his head. It's the very thing he looks at when he goes to his brother's writing studio, where he'd holed up for the day of the release. Being in his home is too much today, because how can he go there and face Dice, who's been such a constant presence? It's not fair to Ramuda or Dice to have to deal with him after he'd put himself out there.
After all, he's nothing but a fabrication, a shadow of the real thing, a memory in human form. He can't hold a candle to the real Yumeno Gentaro, who had bravely defied the Party despite the risk. He is not Gentaro -- he's a coward who can't bear to look his mistakes in the face.
... But he can't stay here forever. Excrutiating as it is to go back home, where Dice very likely is, he needs to go back. Back to the place haunted by the ghost of his brother, back to the place that's felt more like home with Dice there. He wonders just how long that might last, because there's no way Dice hasn't heard it.
He's prepared for the worst. It's why he's slept alone in a cold bed, why he's kept Dice at arm's length, why he can't find it in himself to laugh and smile and tease Dice. He knows he's there, and he stalls as long as he can, back to the warm light of lanterns lining the path to his door, his feet like lead.
Eventually, somehow, he gets himself to walk inside. Sure enough, there's Dice. His throat feels tight. His heart aches like it never has before. He got him gifts.
Dice is far too good for him.
He keeps himself composed, despite the ringing in his ears, despite the earth threatening to fall out from beneath his feet. ]
[ Sometimes, he feels guilty for what he's done. Taking on his brother's identity and devoting himself to convincing everyone that he is Yumeno Gentaro. So far, it seems he's done a great job. Not only has he managed to fool the fans and even his editors, but...
Even Dice. Even himself, sometimes. And that guilt isn't just sometimes, it's often. He likes Dice. He knows why his brother loves him. Dice is easy to love; maybe too easy to love. The more time he spends with him, the more Gentaro is afraid of losing him. When his brother wakes up (and he will wake up, he'll make sure of that), Gentaro will have to let Dice go.
Dwelling on it won't do him any good, but he knows he's going to. Later, when he's alone, he'll dwell on it. Life needs to go on, though. Gentaro can't stagnate in the guilt and fear. Besides, Dice is here. Gentaro lets him in, and all of those doubts melt away for now, like Dice is his own personal sun. ]
Hello again. [ He takes Dice's hand and brushes his lips against the back of it. ] I'm glad to see you again.
[Some people may call Dice oblivious. If he cared for his old way of life, he might label himself willfully ignorant, instead. Words like that don't suit him, so really he just thinks he doesn't give a fuck what people do or think. Life is exceedingly short and he never knows when he's going to literally gamble it away. So... why should he stop doing what brings him joy?
And what brings him joy--has, for a couple of years now--is Gentaro. Maybe it's the money, maybe the company... Maybe it's the fact that he's pretty sure Gentaro fell in and out and back in love with him, and that's just kind of fuckin' weird... But he doesn't care. That's really none of his business. The end result is what matters.
So he's at Gentaro's place again, grinning like an idiot while Gentaro welcomes him in with characteristic oddity. He's not a hundred percent into Gentaro's ever-changing, unpredictable momentary characters, but the guy at the core is lovable. Dice would think he was in love wholeheartedly in return if he wasn't so careless about life in general.
Still, people like Gentaro gave him purpose, and he's all about having that reason to get up in the morning.]
[Unfortunately for Dice, the way things are now isn't the way they were supposed to be at all, and he's pretty sure he's the fool here.
It all started with a certain author doing certain investigative reporting on a certain very powerful family that Dice just happens to be the young heir to. Once Dice's dictatorial mother got wind of things, the writer should have been taken care of... But to Dice's surprise, he seemed perfectly fine, safe, and intact when Dice ran into him again months after his mother's "solution" was implemented. Dice couldn't understand how anyone could bounce back so quickly, but he didn't question it. In fact, he figured out rather quickly that he kind of liked the guy's guts. But guts were nothing against power, and the author wanted nothing to do with him. Dice, unbothered and undeterred, struck a deal with the author. Rather, he offered him something that couldn't possibly be refused.
If the author agreed to be Dice's companion for outings and events--to keep up appearances that the government was unbothered by anyone, of course--Dice would let him keep his health and integrity. And, because the author was reluctant and resistant at first despite the threat, Dice insisted that he'd pay him as well. Handsomely. More even than the author made from his incredibly famous novels.
So it's this arrangement that's been going on for a while that's left Dice the fool. Somewhere along the way, he went from simply amused and intrigued by this forbidden person, to actively enamored. He stays up at night thinking about him. He thinks sweet things and terrible things, and as someone who needs to serve the government at his mother's behest, he can't just have fun with some traitor. Rather than keeping an eye on him, Dice actively looks for excuses to see him now. And that doesn't worry Dice maybe as much as it should. He's draining his own hard-earned money to pay the man, even though their meetings are brief and sporadic. Dice doesn't know what he's supposed to do with his feelings other than throw money at the problem, so that's what he does.
Today's the day before a state gala, with dignitaries from all over the world flying in to meet with his mother and her cabinet. Dice attends such things as a low-ranking member, and this author, Gentaro, serves in the public's eyes as his best friend, someone he's come to be sighted with on occasion. Somehow no one suspects the truth from Dice's side: that he's fairly lovesick and stupid over Gentaro. Dice himself tries to deny it in his mind. But today's the day for formal establishment of contact before the event, and he can't say he's anything short of giddy.
He pulls out his phone and decides to send a perfunctory message to break the ice before sending the usual funds.]
Good afternoon. Don't forget about tomorrow. I'm sending 300k, but if you need a new suit or formalwear I'll send more. I could go shopping with you if you want? This is a pretty important event so we can't look bad.
[ It's true that the last thing Gentaro had wanted was to spend time with him. The son of the woman who'd ruined his life was, at first, guilty by association. Nevermind the fact that the extortion came from someone younger than he. Dice knows how to play dirty, and Gentaro had loathed him for that. He knows Dice is unaware of how much that threat, if acted upon, would unravel everything.
His plans would go up in smoke. Not only that, the Party could repeat his brother's punishment on him. And what would happen to his brother? Gentaro hates thinking about it. He hates even more that he'd agreed, but he didn't have a choice. Sure, he doesn't need the money, but he counts it as a sort of restitution.
Not that he'll ever let Dice know that. He'd have to explain so much more, and there's no way he's doing that. Information has a tendency of making its way to the Party, and he can't risk that.
The thing is that Gentaro, once so resistant and determined to simply go along with the "deal," had started to feel something more than disdain. He's still somewhat in denial, but that's because he doesn't know how to unpack that, and he's not sure he even wants to. It's overwhelming. The time they spend together, though, inexplicably quiets the noise in his head.
Except very recently, he's been anxious and keyed up. Dice's text is an unfortunate reminder that he's going to be among people who have a reason to destroy him. How could he forget that it's tomorrow? It's going to be a nightmare, but Gentaro knows he has to play it cool. Level-headed. Absolutely no sign of how he actually feels.
How he feels. Not just about the Party, but also the fact that he might, foolishly, be in love with Dice. ]
Thank you. This is more than enough, you know.
[ Because Gentaro wants for very little. A lot of the money Dice has given him has gone unspent, aside from pricey, rare books and other treasures. He's grateful for that. Still, he can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the last bit of Dice's message, though. ]
If you have the time, I would appreciate your accompanying me.
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There's a reason he doesn't turn him out on the streets. A few reasons, actually. Gentaro keeps his cards close to his chest, but he's finding it a little harder to do that with Dice, especially recently. Then again... Dice makes him want to be a little more honest. It's an odd feeling but not at all unpleasant.
Still. It doesn't mean he won't tease Dice a little. Or a lot. So when they get to Gentaro's place, he lets out a far too beleaguered sigh. ]
Really, I took time out of my busy schedule to rescue you... I do have a deadline coming up. [ He does not have a deadline coming up. ] I wonder, how do you intend to make it up to me, Dice?
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...especially when it comes to Gentaro, though, Dice feels a little like he's taking too much advantage of things. It's not that it bothers him. It's more like he wonders why he even bothers to ask Ramuda when half the time his answer is just laughter. Gentaro, on the other hand, never says no. He just gives Dice one hell of a trolling. But he always ends up with a comfortable place to sleep and a hell of a sight in the morning.
Maybe that's weird to think about. The fact that he likes watching Gentaro make him coffee, since the man doesn't trust him to try to make his own. That he's a little fond of seeing Gentaro when his hair is sleep-mussed and he looks slightly unkempt. He actually even likes the nights before, too, watching Gentaro write a bit before bed, or hounding him about a book he's reading that Dice wouldn't understand. He thinks the guy looks calm and peaceful doing stuff like that.
And then again, Dice, thrill seeker that he is, kind of wonders what Gentaro would look like as he frays a little, as he lets go to more than just sleep or particularly impassioned lying. He doesn't want to admit that he's thought about it, tried to imagine it.
But topics like this are safer. It's easy to forget those other thoughts when he's on his knees ready to beg to stay the night.]
Make it up to you? Y'know I'll do anything!
[Clean his bathroom! Wash the dishes! Go fetch groceries!]
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He wonders if Dice has noticed. He wonders what would happen if Dice suggested that he's noticed. Honestly, Gentaro isn't sure how he'd handle that, but... there's a part of him that very much wants to find out. After all, Gentaro likes seeing Dice in the morning, and sometimes, he catches himself thinking about waking up curled against Dice. Those thoughts, that desire to cross that delicate, fragile line, are at odds with Gentaro's well-hidden fear of being left alone, of worrying that if he were to just go for it, things would change for the worse.
...
But Dice really does look lovely on his knees. Gentaro considers the other man carefully--the curve of his neck, the way his hair falls into his eyes, how Gentaro would like to sink his hands into it--
Ah. Well. Gentaro, to his credit, manages to keep his cool. What he does instead is reach out and cups a hand beneath Dice's chin. He leans in. ]
Anything? You know, Dice, that is a terribly dangerous offer to make....
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slowburn touching let's gooooooooooooooooooooo
Gentaro prefers being alone... but strangely, recently, he's found that someone else occupying his space isn't terrible.
Dice is still asleep. He'd crashed here last night, as he's wont to do. Gentaro can hem and haw all he wants, but they both know that if he truly didn't want Dice in his space, he'd have kicked him out. Gentaro's an intensely private person, but recently... he has been, perhaps, a little less private. It should bother him. It should gnaw at him from within, make him uncomfortable. But Dice-- Dice is so earnest, so honest, and Gentaro finds himself drawn to that.
He finds himself thinking about Dice, those rare moments they aren't in each other's company.
He watches him for a few moments more before he goes to the kitchen and prepares a pot of coffee. Once it's done, he pours two cups, prepares them to preference. He's quiet as he moves around, as he glances over at Dice every so often. It should worry him that Dice looks like he belongs here.
He should, he should, he should-- He should stop overthinking, take a page out of Dice's book some time.
Gentaro lowers Dice's cup right in front of his face, so the scent is impossible to miss. At least if Dice startles awake, Gentaro quickly pulls it away--it won't do to make a mess, or shower Dice in hot coffee. ]
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The dream he's having is a good one. He's content with it, even if it'll never quite be reality. But it leaves him a little wanting of something when the smell of coffee nearby finally does make him peek open one sleepy eye.
God, if Gentaro isn't just as radiant with the morning sun filtering in behind him as he is in Dice's dreams. He's with Gentaro more often than not, these days, and even though Gentaro's playful antagonism and Dice's chronic borrowing haven't changed much, the context in Dice's mind has shifted.
Where Gentaro was once "different" he is now "unique". Where he was "pretty, for a dude" he's entirely the first thing Dice wants to see when he wakes up and the last person he usually sees at night. He could get used to this, even if it may never really tame him.
He opens both eyes now, inhaling deeply as he scoots to sit up against the arm of the couch, a smile chasing the yawn he accidentally offers in response to the waking. Dice's hands close around the cup, which necessitates their hands touching for a moment, and he looks deep into the pitch black coffee. There's sugar in there, but no cream. He knows it'll be perfect. Somehow this is the one thing Gentaro never pranks him on.]
Mornin'.
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[ The ghost of that touch lingers even after Gentaro settles next to him. They're close. Touching has never been exactly rare with them, but Gentaro wonders if it holds as much weight to Dice, too. He finds that he craves Dice's touch; he still teases him, flirts openly with him, pranks him and slings lies and jokes like he's in a perpetual battle, but the touch...
Sometimes, he finds himself wondering what it would feel like for Dice to brush his fingers along his bare skin, to feel Dice's warmth against him.
He quickly chases those thoughts away with a sip of coffee. God, though, if Dice isn't absolutely, heartwrenchingly beautiful first thing in the morning, still half-awake. Gentaro adores Dice's fire, the way his eyes light up when he's particularly passionate about something, but this is precious. It's something he's sure very few others see.
If Gentaro were an artist, he'd paint masterpieces in Dice's honor, his image. ]
You slept well, I hope?
[ Gentaro's close, so close that their hips are nearly touching. He aches to move closer, wrap himself up in Dice, but his serene expression betrays none of that. ]
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demon dickin
Now he's got a spectacularly lazy demon sharing his space. Gentaro isn't necessarily complaining, because Dice is as beautiful as he is easily worked up. And--he won't admit this--but he's grown pretty fond of him. Take the bond out of the equation, and Gentaro wouldn't even toss him out onto the streets.
Besides, there are some serious perks to living with a demon like Dice. Like now, when he's seated firmly in Dice's lap, fingers trailing along his horns. He very much likes how his demon reacts, and judging from Gentaro's smirk, he's not about to stop any time soon. ]
Doing alright, Dice? [ he murmurs, lips brushing against his ear. ]
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His hands rest on Gentaro's hips, fingers curving against his scant undergarments. His own clothing will burn away at a moment's notice, but for now he hasn't been pushed quite that far. That, and he's enchanted by the touches he's receiving, distracted by Gentaro's heat.
He shivers at the caress to his horns, grinning broadly. Chin tipping up, he practically purrs.]
Yeah. Doin' great.
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[ Gentaro doesn't show this side to anyone else, mostly because before Dice, it hadn't been there. Dice coaxes it out of him, brings it to the surface, and while Gentaro had been unsure at first... Now, he enjoys it. He doesn't admit it in any certain words, but the fact that he's often the one initiating touches and kisses speaks for itself.
Dice always responds so beautifully, and Gentaro is nothing if not a sucker for beautiful things. He holds onto his horns more firmly, lightly pulling his head back so he can bite and suck at his neck. And-- just to work Dice up even more, he rocks his hips down against his. ]
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In fact, quite the opposite. Dice returns his flirtations, and that's intoxicating in of itself. Gentaro's prone to teasing and tormenting, but nothing serious; he would never want to hurt anyone innocent. Of course, what they have is far from innocent, even if they haven't actually done anything, but...
Semantics. Anyway.
Gentaro's found him, as he is wont to do. Dice is a remarkably heavy sleeper, so the oni takes his time pawing through the human's belongings. He knows well enough what Dice treasures, and when he finds his prize, he rolls them between his fingers. He's not about to leave, though. Why leave and miss the look on Dice's face when he proposes what's on his mind? It's dangerous that Gentaro wants to stay around someone. But Gentaro has had enough of caution. He can afford to indulge and play for a little while. Beyond that, well--
He doesn't want to think of what he really wants, but he can't stop. So when Dice comes to, there's a pensive look in those glowing eyes as Gentaro lounges beneath a tree, looking as if he owns the damn place. The dice in his long, elegant fingers gently clack together as he plays with them. ]
Ah, he awakens. [ That look turns playful, though there's a hunger behind it as Gentaro watches him. ] You know, you do sleep like a log. It's rude to keep me waiting for so long. I might have to punish you.
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But there is one thing that's always been silently sacred, kept to himself. He's never let Gentaro get his clawed fingers on his precious dice. They're one of a kind, animal bone with carefully painted pips that match Dice's favorite kimono. He's superstitious about them, guarding them carefully, almost always keeping them at hand. But it doesn't make sense to do that when he's asleep. So... Gentaro's figured out when he's most vulnerable and decided to strike. Typical. But he does always show up at the oddest times.
The familiar clack-clack of handled dice wakes him eventually, and he half sits up, groggy. There are two alluring, unsettling eyes looking at him in the dark of the smallest hours of the morning. The sun is far from rising, but Dice registers the sound's source and immediately reaches for his lucky pouch to check...
Gone. They're gone. And those eyes can only belong to one meddlesome creature.]
...bastard. Give 'em back.
[He's alert now, but barely awake physically, moving slowly to arrange his long hair back up into a high ponytail. The blanket he's been resting on under the dilapidated lean-to rustles faintly beneath him.]
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Gentaro knows it comes from the fact that Dice much more honest than he is. More than that, he's endearing, and has a way of making Gentaro feel like he can let his guard down. At the same time, it's dangerous. He can't afford to let the mask slip, but it's happening more and more frequently.
But-- the guilt he feels is insurmountable. Dice loves a Gentaro that isn't the one he's spent so much time with. It's a bitter pill to swallow. Sometimes Gentaro considers telling him, but-- it's easier to push people away than let them in. As dear as Dice is to him, old habits die hard.
Complicating things even further is that Gentaro's fallen for him, too. Being around Dice is all at once terrifying and exhilarating. He isn't a saint, far from it. The result is that his teasing borders on downright mean, his words more cutting, and Gentaro is just distant enough for it to be noticeable. Even now, as he watches Gentaro write in his living room, Gentaro hardly speaks to him or looks his way.
After all, Dice deserves better than a liar and a thief. ]
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The day he figured out he was in love was devastating, for every reason. He'd been stupid and reckless on a high from a win, and he'd let himself embrace Gentaro just a little too long, breathed in his scent just a little too deeply. From that day on, Gentaro had begun to morph into something strange and foreign, something he could never touch or grasp or get to again. It was gradual enough that Dice didn't notice at first, this alienation, but now that he's traced it back to its origin, and he knows it's his fault, it's gut-wrenching and impossible to ignore. And to think he'd spent the first weeks of his realization on a delighted high, thinking how lucky he was to be in love with one of his best friends. They were always together, after all.
It gnaws at him now, the loneliness he feels, and he knows that for once in his life, the abandonment he's experiencing is his own idiotic fault. He still tries to smile, but the smile loses its spark. He doesn't even gamble nearly as much as he used to, but lately the stakes have been escalating unreasonably. He's a wreck. A lovesick, hopeless fool. But he brought this on himself, he wagers, either by coming on too strong or by having the audacity to love someone who couldn't and wouldn't ever love him back.
Still, he suffers it. He needs a place to sleep, so here he is, sitting quietly on the sofa while Gentaro writes or types or plots or imagines. It's all he can do to not stare holes right through him.
They need to talk. Maybe if he gets this out of his system, it'll stop hurting, and he can move on. They can even stay friends. Hell, he wouldn't want it any other way.
He doesn't notice he's tugging at his hair and making a low, frustrated growl until Gentaro clears his throat. Maybe it's coincidental, but his head snaps up and he freezes.]
Sorry...
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It's strange that he's been here as long as he has. He knows the reason, but he tries very much to not dwell on it. He should leave, because the longer he stays, the riskier it is.
Gentaro's been here for days, which have turned into weeks, and he can't bring himself to leave just yet. It's foolish to get attached to anyone. His life is a dangerous one. The scars he's accumulated over the years are proof of that. And yet...
It's hard to even think of leaving and never seeing him again. Dice, with his pretty eyes and pretty face, with his wide-eyed naivete and whose life has always been easy, has trapped Gentaro. Of course, Gentaro never intends to tell him. He'll slip away one day, a phantom without an anchor, and Dice will forget about him. Dice deserves better than spending time with a thief; his world is still bright and unsullied.
If Dice is the sun, then Gentaro is a storm of black clouds who brings nothing but destruction to all he touches. It's bad enough that he helps him sneak out sometimes, but Dice has been nothing but excited and enthusiastic whenever he slips out of the palace. Gentaro knows Dice would never reveal where his camp is; he's not that sort of person. Unlike him, Dice is honest. He could be someone Gentaro could trust.
He could, but he doesn't let himself.
Imagine his surprise when Dice collapses near his camp, half-dead. Gentaro had heard of the goings-on in the city, but he's used to disappointment. The world is cruel, and mercy so rarely comes to people who deserve it. It's not that he wants Dice to be cut down; he just knows it's the most likely outcome.
Understandably, Gentaro is alarmed and worried, but he puts on a mask of calm and takes Dice into his care. He watches over him, tends to his wounds, keeps him fed and hydrated as best he can. He isn't used to taking care of people--not for a very, very long time--but this feels natural. And maybe Gentaro cares too much to leave Dice to the cruelties of the world.
That had been a week ago. Gentaro thinks Dice may wake up for real soon, rather than those delirious moments when he coaxes him to eat or drink something. His wounds are nearly healed, thanks to Gentaro's careful tending. All he needs to do is wait... but that's the hardest part. ]
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He's dreamed off and on since he collapsed in front of Gentaro's camp. He's dreamed of his friend, a king in his own right, who no one ever approved of him consulting or being kind to. He's dreamed of his wife, who he thought might have plenty of cause to hate him, considering things. He's even dreamed of his mother, whose whispers got him into this mess to begin with. But in those dreams, it's always Dice who's the problem. It's always Dice's fault things ended up this way, and he confesses and admits it to their faces, begs forgiveness, dies dozens upon dozens of ways. Perhaps that's why his mind refuses to let him see the truth: that he survived, and he's safe.
Maybe he thinks he ought to be dead.
But something wouldn't let him die without seeing his only friend again. He ducked, ran, hid, did everything he could to survive until he collapsed at Gentaro's doorstep. In fact, though it's been a week, Dice makes Gentaro wait on him for just a few more days before he opens his eyes. He can't see, which is terrifying, but after a few unsteady, terrified breaths he realizes it's because his eyes are covered with something soft and cool. He isn't sure where he is at first, but after those first ragged breaths, he smells a familiar scent of wood and something like plum blossoms. He smells Gentaro.]
....
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Losing his brother, being abandoned as a child, enduring the jabs and jeers of his classmates, watching Ramuda struggle against every cruel thing thrown his way... It's no wonder he feels so weary of the world. One thing he'd never expected, though, is to find himself locked in a cell after an unexpected arrest.
And after an unexpected, painful, heartbreaking betrayal. He supposes there's an upside: His cell is surprisingly nice. Gentaro would call it a normal bedroom, if it weren't for the fact that he can't leave. It's no wonder that anger and bitterness and pain all mix together into something hideous.
Being alone with his thoughts and feelings isn't ideal, but what else is he supposed to do? There are things to read, to write, but he has no intention of making use of them. Even if he did, he can't focus on anything but the cruelty of what Dice has done. ]
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Besides, he has to put on a good show for Gentaro. He can't let a shred of remorse show. And he's been promised that the more he breaks Gentaro down for information and the more he treats him like an enemy of the state, the sooner things will be over and the man can go free. It works out, in Dice's head, even if this is going to get ugly before it gets better.
His hair is styled and trimmed, his clothes are immaculate, and for once he's honestly well-fed and rested. His boots click-click on the concrete floor as he heads to Gentaro's cell with two bags and a tray of food. Once he arrives, he peeks in, then knocks on the door.]
Hey. Dinner's here.
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It's nice to have that freedom, but Gentaro is someone who craves a bond with someone else, who wants the sort of connection he's never quite been able to find. To be fair, it's partly his fault, because he's slow to trust. Still, he wants very much to find that one person.
At least his preferred cafe just happens to be near the busiest section of Shibuya. Gentaro's a favorite: He gives them plenty of money for food and drinks while he sits and watches people going by. He does always have a book or writing with him; he'd rather not just sit and stare without doing anything else.
It's a fairly normal day when Gentaro spots him. He's especially bored today, caught up in how horribly monotonous everything is. He isn't even sure what it is about him, but he gathers his things up, leaves a hefty tip, and leaves. At least that hair is distinctive enough that he doesn't lose sight of him. ]
The cherry blossoms are lovely this time of year, aren't they?
[ It's just small talk in the park, when they get there. ]
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So, with his days numbered, he heads to the park. It's always where he goes to clear his head and his woes, and if his last cigarette doesn't last him the whole hour, so be it. At least the cherry blossoms are nice. Kind of dreamy, if you ask him.
Wait. Did someone just--]
Huh?
[He looks to the speaker with a start, dropping his nearly-spent cigarette and burning his hand just a bit in his haste to try to catch it. After a false start or two thanks to his fumbling, he curses quietly, then shakes his hand a few times to get the sting out.]
Uh... yeah. I mean they're usually nice? I get kinda caught up looking at 'em.
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I'm sorry
But it ended an hour ago, and he has his spoils--a new jacket for Gentaro that he'll never wear, a silly musical instrument that sounds kind of like a cat meowing, and a couple of illicit extra bucks in his pocket--so he can finally head to what he's called home for months. Something weird happens as he passes a music shop and waits at a crosswalk. Whatever the tune is that he's overhearing is familiar, and he finds himself humming along. It takes a moment for him to realize that he's heard Gentaro humming it to himself late at night, and that lyrics accompany the melody. It must be Gentaro's solo. So, like any dutiful and broke member of a group, he sidetracks himself into the shop and finds the kiosk with the song samples. Putting on the headphones there, he punches up his own first. The mastering is excellent, and he sounds as sharp as ever. Then it's Gentaro's sample that comes on, and though Dice listens casually for a split second, the lyrics hit him like a truck after only a moment.
This is personal. This is raw and unforgiving and broken, and Dice doesn't like it. The person he's come to treasure most in the world is laying his soul bare, and Dice didn't see it coming. He closes his eyes, willing the song to go beyond the sample, but when it switches to the group song he lets out a solid, colorful curse and throws the headphones back onto the stand.
Maybe it's because he knows this is his fault, in a sense, but he's angry. And he needs to make sure Gentaro is okay. Things start to make sense on the walk home. Gentaro being more distant lately makes sense. Gentaro hiding the contents. Gentaro refusing to smile despite all of Dice's antics. Gentaro wanting to sleep alone. Dice isn't the sort to internalize things or take blame onto himself, but even he isn't so stupid as to think that Gentaro's pain has nothing to do with his actions. And more than that, he's kicking himself for forgetting to listen sooner. He can't take the blame for his mother's tyranny, but he can take responsibility for his role in Gentaro retreating into a sort of closet.
He arrives back at the apartment and lets himself in, not expecting to be alone. But Gentaro is out. So Dice, gifts that now seem meaningless on his lap, waits on the couch...]
i am also sorry
It's no one's fault but his own. Logically, he knows he should come clean. Dice and Ramuda are both precious to him in ways he'd never expected. That's what makes it all the more difficult, though. If he were to tell them the truth, what would that mean? He tries very, very hard to not think about it.
It had been so easy to lie in the beginning, because there was no way he would have thought they would burrow their way under his skin into his very being. He's a part of them as much as they're a part of him, but... It's near impossible to not feel guilty about it. The Yumeno Gentaro they know lays in a hospital bed, sustained only by wires and machines.
The manuscript had been the last thing he'd had of his brother, and he'd willingly given it up to save Ramuda. He would do it again, because Ramuda's life is worth more than his.
All that remains now is a pale imitation of the original manuscript. Gentaro knows it by heart, memorized it top to bottom, word for word, as if it's a living thing tucked away in his head. It's the very thing he looks at when he goes to his brother's writing studio, where he'd holed up for the day of the release. Being in his home is too much today, because how can he go there and face Dice, who's been such a constant presence? It's not fair to Ramuda or Dice to have to deal with him after he'd put himself out there.
After all, he's nothing but a fabrication, a shadow of the real thing, a memory in human form. He can't hold a candle to the real Yumeno Gentaro, who had bravely defied the Party despite the risk. He is not Gentaro -- he's a coward who can't bear to look his mistakes in the face.
... But he can't stay here forever. Excrutiating as it is to go back home, where Dice very likely is, he needs to go back. Back to the place haunted by the ghost of his brother, back to the place that's felt more like home with Dice there. He wonders just how long that might last, because there's no way Dice hasn't heard it.
He's prepared for the worst. It's why he's slept alone in a cold bed, why he's kept Dice at arm's length, why he can't find it in himself to laugh and smile and tease Dice. He knows he's there, and he stalls as long as he can, back to the warm light of lanterns lining the path to his door, his feet like lead.
Eventually, somehow, he gets himself to walk inside. Sure enough, there's Dice. His throat feels tight. His heart aches like it never has before. He got him gifts.
Dice is far too good for him.
He keeps himself composed, despite the ringing in his ears, despite the earth threatening to fall out from beneath his feet. ]
Good evening.
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Even Dice. Even himself, sometimes. And that guilt isn't just sometimes, it's often. He likes Dice. He knows why his brother loves him. Dice is easy to love; maybe too easy to love. The more time he spends with him, the more Gentaro is afraid of losing him. When his brother wakes up (and he will wake up, he'll make sure of that), Gentaro will have to let Dice go.
Dwelling on it won't do him any good, but he knows he's going to. Later, when he's alone, he'll dwell on it. Life needs to go on, though. Gentaro can't stagnate in the guilt and fear. Besides, Dice is here. Gentaro lets him in, and all of those doubts melt away for now, like Dice is his own personal sun. ]
Hello again. [ He takes Dice's hand and brushes his lips against the back of it. ] I'm glad to see you again.
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And what brings him joy--has, for a couple of years now--is Gentaro. Maybe it's the money, maybe the company... Maybe it's the fact that he's pretty sure Gentaro fell in and out and back in love with him, and that's just kind of fuckin' weird... But he doesn't care. That's really none of his business. The end result is what matters.
So he's at Gentaro's place again, grinning like an idiot while Gentaro welcomes him in with characteristic oddity. He's not a hundred percent into Gentaro's ever-changing, unpredictable momentary characters, but the guy at the core is lovable. Dice would think he was in love wholeheartedly in return if he wasn't so careless about life in general.
Still, people like Gentaro gave him purpose, and he's all about having that reason to get up in the morning.]
Hi to you too!
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It all started with a certain author doing certain investigative reporting on a certain very powerful family that Dice just happens to be the young heir to. Once Dice's dictatorial mother got wind of things, the writer should have been taken care of... But to Dice's surprise, he seemed perfectly fine, safe, and intact when Dice ran into him again months after his mother's "solution" was implemented. Dice couldn't understand how anyone could bounce back so quickly, but he didn't question it. In fact, he figured out rather quickly that he kind of liked the guy's guts. But guts were nothing against power, and the author wanted nothing to do with him. Dice, unbothered and undeterred, struck a deal with the author. Rather, he offered him something that couldn't possibly be refused.
If the author agreed to be Dice's companion for outings and events--to keep up appearances that the government was unbothered by anyone, of course--Dice would let him keep his health and integrity. And, because the author was reluctant and resistant at first despite the threat, Dice insisted that he'd pay him as well. Handsomely. More even than the author made from his incredibly famous novels.
So it's this arrangement that's been going on for a while that's left Dice the fool. Somewhere along the way, he went from simply amused and intrigued by this forbidden person, to actively enamored. He stays up at night thinking about him. He thinks sweet things and terrible things, and as someone who needs to serve the government at his mother's behest, he can't just have fun with some traitor. Rather than keeping an eye on him, Dice actively looks for excuses to see him now. And that doesn't worry Dice maybe as much as it should. He's draining his own hard-earned money to pay the man, even though their meetings are brief and sporadic. Dice doesn't know what he's supposed to do with his feelings other than throw money at the problem, so that's what he does.
Today's the day before a state gala, with dignitaries from all over the world flying in to meet with his mother and her cabinet. Dice attends such things as a low-ranking member, and this author, Gentaro, serves in the public's eyes as his best friend, someone he's come to be sighted with on occasion. Somehow no one suspects the truth from Dice's side: that he's fairly lovesick and stupid over Gentaro. Dice himself tries to deny it in his mind. But today's the day for formal establishment of contact before the event, and he can't say he's anything short of giddy.
He pulls out his phone and decides to send a perfunctory message to break the ice before sending the usual funds.]
Good afternoon. Don't forget about tomorrow. I'm sending 300k, but if you need a new suit or formalwear I'll send more. I could go shopping with you if you want? This is a pretty important event so we can't look bad.
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His plans would go up in smoke. Not only that, the Party could repeat his brother's punishment on him. And what would happen to his brother? Gentaro hates thinking about it. He hates even more that he'd agreed, but he didn't have a choice. Sure, he doesn't need the money, but he counts it as a sort of restitution.
Not that he'll ever let Dice know that. He'd have to explain so much more, and there's no way he's doing that. Information has a tendency of making its way to the Party, and he can't risk that.
The thing is that Gentaro, once so resistant and determined to simply go along with the "deal," had started to feel something more than disdain. He's still somewhat in denial, but that's because he doesn't know how to unpack that, and he's not sure he even wants to. It's overwhelming. The time they spend together, though, inexplicably quiets the noise in his head.
Except very recently, he's been anxious and keyed up. Dice's text is an unfortunate reminder that he's going to be among people who have a reason to destroy him. How could he forget that it's tomorrow? It's going to be a nightmare, but Gentaro knows he has to play it cool. Level-headed. Absolutely no sign of how he actually feels.
How he feels. Not just about the Party, but also the fact that he might, foolishly, be in love with Dice. ]
Thank you. This is more than enough, you know.
[ Because Gentaro wants for very little. A lot of the money Dice has given him has gone unspent, aside from pricey, rare books and other treasures. He's grateful for that. Still, he can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the last bit of Dice's message, though. ]
If you have the time, I would appreciate your accompanying me.
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