dinohouse | For Gotou-chan!

"It's a team-building exercise, Gotou-chan!" I told you, beaming broadly.

Of course, this was directly after locking us into one of the unused office spaces in the Kougami Foundation building, opening the window, and dropping the key out the window, thirteen floors to the ground. And then turning around and seeing that face you always give me when I've just done something of this caliber of stupid.

But I've been trying to get up the courage to talk to you for months now. It just never happens. And it's got to. I can't go on like this for much longer.

So, here we are.

"Team-building?" I say again, with a hopeful beaming smile. "Team Birth needs bonding exercises!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

doestheresearch

"Oh," I say articulately. I heard the first time, sort of, but I wasn't really listening.

He didn't say he ... well, loved me, for my superior comprehension skills. And it's hardly my fault he keeps distracting me. He's got my chin in his hands, still watching me, and as I swallow I'm sure he can feel the motion in my throat.

"You still haven't told me why you locked me in a thirteenth-floor office." It's a really weak joke, and not at all my style to make one in a situation like this. More like his style. When he told me he's dying I was sure I'd know what to do, all the arrangements, the practical things. And now?

I don't know. I don't like not knowing.

From:

wontreadthemanual

Gotou's throat bobs against the heel of my hand as he swallows, and some part of my mind's telling me I should let go of his face, which I do, very reluctantly, fingers dragging on his skin.

I put my hands on my knees, where they're safe and I can keep them under control. He's alarmed, and really has every right to be so. I kissed him twice without permission.

But I keep his gaze, and show him the vulnerability in my own eyes, trying to comfort the fear in his own.

"It's not because of you. I locked me in a thirteenth-floor office. Because...I wouldn't have been able to tell you, otherwise."

From:

doestheresearch

I'm not going to lecture him again about tossing the key out of the window. He'll regret that when the city sends him the bill for the hole in the pavement, "some team-building exercise."

I've got more questions, probably too many. It's not time for them. So I go back to what I do best, which is focusing on the facts, the practical side, "this doesn't change anything. I'm going to take care of you. If you need medical treatment, or - or something else," It's probably best not to mention at this stage that I have been thinking about whether he'll eventually need to go into a full-time care home, "I'll take care of it. I haven't got anyone else. I don't know that you do either."

It's not answering his point. At the moment I don't know how to do that. But at the very least, I care, and I know he's aware that what I am saying is the best way I can express it just at this moment.

From:

wontreadthemanual

I give him my best beaming grin, reaching out briefly to squeeze his hand, then stand and stretch, rolling one shoulder then the other, all my motions brisk.

"I won't be afraid with you taking care of me," I tell him, patting my chest over my heart. "Thank you. You're the dearest friend I have."

I cross to the cabinet standing beside the office's main desk, and open a small drawer, pulling out a small box with a combination lock holding it shut. I carry it back to him, offering it at extended arm's reach.

"Here, the spare key. I don't know the combination, but Satonaka-chan said that you would, since she copied it off of your personnel code."

I have to swallow, still grinning confidently at him. My eyes are mostly squinted shut, knowing he hasn't seen this punchline coming.

One of many he's faced today.

"I told you, I only locked myself in here, not you... Gotou-chan."

I promised myself no regrets. I won't regret this.

From:

doestheresearch

Friend. I thought I was more than a friend? And just me, not him.

I hope he's not going to do anything stupid. In fact, I know he's not, because I won't let him.

"I'm not going anywhere without you. Either you come with me or we stay here." With no food, water or toilet facilities, as I mentioned. I'm hoping he'll soon get tired of that and want to leave. If he doesn't want to go to Couscoussier, I'll just take him home, or somewhere else.

He's still grinning away at me. I can see more than that in his eyes, and it's unnerving. It's affecting me to the point where after a moment or two I feel compelled to say it aloud, "... And I thought I was more than a friend?"

From:

wontreadthemanual

I didn't think it could hurt worse, and then--

Well, then it does.

He's off on a tangent, misunderstanding what I meant about the key -- my point was that he could leave at any time as soon as I showed him the key, but without his consent I couldn't have left, since I couldn't open its box. Still can't.

But the key's far from the important part when he challenges my wording, and the lump in my throat is hard to talk around. My voice is strained as I try.

"That's not my decision to make, Gotou-chan," I say, and I make sure I put the honorific on there, I make sure that I'm careful with his name, because I won't be careless with his name in my mouth, even if it's not the name I want to call him by. Because that desire isn't important, not in comparison to the importance of the man himself.

"I don't want to die with any regrets, and I would have regretted not being honest with you. You're not obligated to anything on my account."

From:

doestheresearch

So I enter the combination and open the box. Why did she choose mine? I'll have words with her about security later, but for now - "We're getting out." I unlock the door and we're free from high-rise hell.

But we're not off the hook, not really. All the events of the evening feel so unreal, so unlikely that they're not registering with me. I've come to expect anything when dealing with Hino or the Greeed, just - just not this. People don't lock me in towers and kiss me.

Date-san doesn't lock me in towers and kiss me; only he just did.

"I wonder why you think I'd take responsibility for you if I were just a friend." At the very least, I think he's more than a regular friend to me. If he wants any further answers, I don't have them yet, "we're going home. Or to Couscoussier, whatever you want."

From:

wontreadthemanual

I hold back any response I might have until we're in the hallway, Gotou-chan leading me to the elevator and out of the building. He's obviously intent on getting the hell out of here; I feel a stab of guilt for making him feel trapped, when all I was trying to do was nail my own feet to the floor long enough to be honest with him. And I was honest, and I have to hold on to that.

I told myself I wouldn't regret this. I won't.

It's not until we're in the lobby of the building, headed out the front door - it takes a swipe of one of our passes, since it's after hours, but then the doors open and a blast of cool evening air hits me across the face, right as Gotou says,

If I were just a friend.

I think my heart's soaring right back up toward the thirteenth floor all over again, and I reach with only very vaguely bashful determination for his hand, grasping it loosely in mine.

"Because you're a good man, Gotou-chan." He asks me where we should go and there's at least one or two things to trip over in that supposedly simple question - we? Home? Whose home? Together?

I rein in my quite overactive optimism and squeeze his hand very lightly. "I picked the office," I say with a chuckle. "Next stop is your choice."

From:

doestheresearch

I'm not usually the sort of person who holds hands in public. But I could be, just this once. Maybe again; we'll see, "Um ... I don't know. Where are you staying? Should we go there?"

I almost feel like I want a drink, though it seems a bit callous to say so. He may not want to be anywhere in public, and the whole "your place or mine?" issue is always awkward even out of the usual context. It's still early evening and we potentially have a lot of hours left in the day. I think I'll see if there's anything he needs, and how long he wants me to remain with him. And then of course there's transport, "how far is it? Can we walk?"

I don't earn enough to run a car in Tokyo. The streets are empty anyway, since we're not exactly in a buzzing area - all the restaurants and bars are a block or two away. Therefore any anxiety I might have had about walking in public holding hands with someone is assuaged for now.

From:

wontreadthemanual

"It's too far to walk," I tell him, hedging my bets on that estimate just in case. My idea of what's a "walkable" distance is rather skewed, being a wanderer as I am. I imagine Gotou-chan might be less pleased about a two kilometer walk at this hour. Not that I don't think he could do it; I just know long distances like that tend to be tiresome to folks less accustomed to them.

It's an awkwardly arranged area of town, and I find myself wishing quite strongly for a Ridevendor right about now. Those things were always just around the corner when you needed them most. I've wondered more than once if they didn't actually follow us about like faithful pets.

Aah, but that's in the past, and right now, Gotou-chan and I need a place to rest and eat.

"There's a place I like to go to every once in a while, just around the corner from here." I don't know what sort of mood he's in; honestly, I'm having a hard time reading him right now. But if I'd had two big old information bombs dropped on my head, I know what I'd be wanting right about now.

"I don't know if you're hungry, but they do serve really excellent wheat beer," I offer gently, with a small sheepish smile. If he's got the headache I think he does, he's got only one person to blame for it.

From:

doestheresearch

Of course, I could just put him on the back of my bike, but I'm not going to. I've got only one helmet and while he needs it more than I do, I'm not prepared to risk riding without one.

I feel silly worrying about road safety at a time like this. We're Team Birth. We've faced worse, haven't we, so why are we now reduced to this?

"OK, sure, we'll go there." I didn't think he'd want to be out and about. It's less awkward than going to his home, though, and I could use a drink. Not too much. I don't know how far he's going to take it, and the last thing we need is for us both to be incapable of getting back at the end of the night.

He hasn't let go of my hand. I guess we're stuck like this, then. I'm not going to be first.

From:

wontreadthemanual

It doesn't take long, the walk from the Kougami office to the small Western-theme pub I mentioned.

The walk is quiet and lonely for most of its duration, but as we near a particular street corner I gently pull my hand from Gotou-chan's grip. And I offer a smile, indicating the path ahead of us, as we turn the corner while his face seems to ask for an explanation.

Just like that, we've stepped from a smaller side path onto the main thoroughfare of this market square, and there's other pedestrians all over -shopping, eating, and couples walking hand in hand.

It's not the context for a hesitant hand's clasp, especially one between two 'perhaps not just friends' like ourselves.

"It's just past that streetlamp," I tell him, pointing out the little shop's bright orange awning.

From:

doestheresearch

I don't suppose he could have chosen something a bit more conspicuous?

But I'm not complaining. It looks cosy, if nothing else. And it's a guy's sort of place, somewhere where we can go in together and no one will suspect a conversation like the one we had. I'm hoping that Date-san will relax. He's a regular here, he probably knows the patrons. I think he's been through more than enough anguish for one evening.

I'll order just one wheat beer for now. Not more than two or three tonight. We can get a taxi back, or take a late bus if we don't miss it.

From:

wontreadthemanual

Getting a table isn't difficult; I greet the hostess on duty, a pretty young woman with a strong British accent, with a warm smile and casual hug. She's studying in Japan for her master's degree, and I politely ask after the state of her studies before introducing Gotou-chan. She recognizes the name, beaming at him.

"Date-san's coworker! I have heard good things about you. Here, right this way."

We're here for the beer, but there's a fair selection of munchies, including something touted as "quintessentially American" -- jalepeno beer-battered cheese-stuffed pretzel poppers.

We order the plain fries.

Gotou-chan's drinking slowly tonight, and so I match him in pace; I've got a higher tolerance, so I can drink four or five and not have too much difficulty at all, but I make sure to keep in pace with him, only ordering my second once he's most of the way through his first, and so on.

I don't want him to feel pressured, and I don't want to end up overindulging and making him babysit me for the rest of the night. Normally I don't have to put conscious thought into my drinking, but tonight's...not normal. Not at all. And I want to make sure that I show him that as much as it pains me, I do mean it from the heart when I say that anything further between us, from here on out, is his decision to make.

The beer is as good as I remembered, and there's a few other varieties to select from as well; I advise Gotou-chan on the pros and cons of each, settling into comfortable conversation. It takes me a little while, but after my second beer and an hour or so, I'm feeling much more settled, much less upset.

Not that I was that upset to start with! Gotou-chan is more worried about my condition than I am, but I hate to worry him, and that just ends up turning into one kind of cycle or another. But I'm not as anxious right now, as we finish off the last of the fries, contemplating whether or not to get one more beer or close our tab. And to my great relief, it doesn't look like he is, either.

From:

doestheresearch

I'm not too fussed over what kind of beer I drink. I was only vaguely aware that there were this many different types, but nonetheless it's an interesting subject of conversation. Somehow the waitress gets involved as well. He was always good at making a room come to life; I'm not.

Date-san seems to be showing remarkable restraint on the drinking front. I'm not saying I thought he was an alcoholic or something, just that I was expecting him to be maybe a little more ... "merry." He's bigger than I, so he can drink a few more without too many negative effects. But we'll have to get some sort of public transport, because I can't ride a bike now, "are you going home? What should we do?" I'll summon the waitress in a moment and ask for the number for a taxi.

We've had a good evening, but on reflection, I think I'll ask to go somewhere else next time. I don't like this guitar on the wall above me, what if it landed on my head?

From:

wontreadthemanual

Gotou-chan seems a bit wobbly, and since I've never seen him intoxicated before, it's a bit more wobbly than I'm okay with.

Or maybe I just am enjoying the excuse to wrap one arm around his waist, holding him up against me as we make our way out the doors and onto the curb. The air's crisp and cool out here, and the light breeze moving along is far more refreshing than the warm but stagnant air of the pub. Hopefully it'll perk him up some.

"I think I'd better get my partner safely home before I worry about myself." I can't help but pat his shoulder companionably; he's so slim and yet he doesn't look weak or frail to me at all.

Even when he was getting knocked on his ass every time he fired the Birth blaster, I didn't see him as weak. A weak person doesn't get up and try again, knowing he's about to get knocked on his ass again, and do it anyway.

I'm getting distracted. With a grin I find him a parking meter to lean on, so we can address each other at slightly more comfortable conversational distance. Though I'm not going to let go of him entirely. Just in case.

"If you'd be willing, I could drive your bike," I suggest. "There's room for a passenger, right?"

From:

doestheresearch

"I've got only one helmet, sempai. And you've had more to drink than I have. You can't control the bike in that state." The last thing we need is to cause an accident and/or get pulled over by the police.

I'm not prepared to let him go home by himself, either. I don't know whether I'm feeling protective just because he's told me about the fragments in his brain; but I don't want to leave him until I know he is back safely. "We should get a taxi. Or the train. I'll go back with you, come on."

He's very close to me, only a few centimetres away from my face. It's a little unnerving, especially since in my current state he's just the tiniest bit hazy. And he's still got his arm around my waist. Well, let it stay there.

Where did that parking meter come from?

From:

wontreadthemanual

I could argue the point, since he's the one wobbling and I'm not, but he's always been more stubborn than me, and it is his bike, after all. Then he offers to simplify the whole process by giving us one destination instead of two, and I can't deny that it does make things easier.

I've known about, and been more or less at peace with, my condition for long enough that it takes me a few minutes longer, til I've managed to catch us a taxi and we've climbed in, already heading out of the shopping area, to realize that he's only had a couple hours to process the idea. He probably doesn't want to let me out of his sight for the immediate future.

I wish I could promise him that he's got nothing to worry about, but the best I could reasonably say without knowingly lying to him is he's probably got nothing to worry about. And I guess that wouldn't be much comfort if I were in his position, either.

The ride to my apartment is about three kilometers from where we picked up the taxi; it doesn't take long, and the driver wishes 'my friend' a speedy recovery from his drink as I hand over the fare and tug Gotou-chan out of the vehicle. He leans against me as the cabbie sticks his hand out the window with my change. I fold the man's hand over the money, giving him a friendly smile.

"Have a good night, sir."

As for us? The building's a converted house, not that large, and the staircase is external, wooden and relatively sturdy, leading up to my second-floor apartment. It's not very large but it's not very cluttered, either; I don't have many things to make a mess with (though I've done my best with the few possessions I do own).

"Sorry it's not swept up," I mutter, reaching down to untie my shoes on the doorstep. I'm not sure if Gotou-chan's gonna need help with his, but he can lean on my back while I'm bent over at least, so he doesn't fall.

From:

doestheresearch

I'm not paying attention throughout most of the taxi ride. It all pretty much passes in a blur. The driver's talking about a "speedy recovery." Which confuses me, because did Date-san tell him about the bullet and the operation and everything? Why would you just open up to a stranger about that? I'm about to say something but I'm feeling a little dizzy. I think I'll just lean out of the window.

The next thing I know is we're out of the taxi and going up to what is presumably Date-san's place. I look around for the taxi, it's only fair I share the cost; but no sign of him. Did we run away without paying? I'm a police officer, I don't do that kind of thing. I'll tell sempai off later.

We go up about a hundred steps, me clutching onto the hand rail because I can't keep track of all the stairs. When we get to the top he just bends over in the doorway. I don't know what he thinks he's doing. I may have to literally kick him in the ass for him to let me into the house.

From:

wontreadthemanual

Gotou-chan doesn't seem to be very with-it at the moment. I can tell because he is prodding my backside, presumably because I'm in his way. I thought there was enough room beside me in the entryway to let him unshoe, too, but I suppose not.

"Gotou-chan, here. Lean on my shoulder."

I crouch down once I'm done with my shoes, beginning to work on his. Are standard police shoes' laces supposed to be double-bunny-knotted, according to regulations?

From:

doestheresearch

"Why?"

To lean on his shoulder, I have to lean down to reach him. But then he crouches on the floor and I almost do a somersault over him. What is he even doing? Is he looking for something?

"I've got a torch light in my pocket," I volunteer helpfully. I usually take it with me everywhere as it is useful for police work; but it's not in either of my coat pockets or in my shirt. Maybe the taxi driver stole it in revenge for us not paying him.

I'm gonna go over there and arrest him tomorrow. Wonder if Date-san got the license plate number?

From:

wontreadthemanual

Wow, he is seriously past wobbling. I kneel in front of him, steadying him with one hand grasping his, the other on his hip. Looking up at him like this, my head's right about at his belly level. I am Not Thinking about how nice of a pillow he might make. Nope.

"Um, Gotou-chan, you only had the one beer, right? Have you eaten much today?"

I got his shoes untied, and I can wobble them off his feet easily enough as he shifts balance, digging around in his pockets for something.

"No, we don't need a torch," I soothe him, holding on to the one hand he's not patting himself down with. "I was just undoing your laces."

From:

doestheresearch

"No, not one. Maybe two?" I can't remember anything about our bar tab. I somehow know I should remember, that I usually keep track of all these things, whose round it is and how many we've each had. But for whatever reason I don't, "I don't know any of these things. We had dinner, didn't we? Or lunch?"

Oh, yeah, gotta take my shoes off. Then I remember I need to put them on again, because I'm going home, "I should go. I was gonna make sure you got home safely. Byeeee, sempai." Too bad that taxi's gone, I could have asked him to give me a lift. It shouldn't be far from the station, but what time did the last train leave?

From:

wontreadthemanual

"Ohhh no you don't." Gotou turns to leave, half-stepping into one of his shoes, tripping over the other, and I rise from my crouch to try to stop him as he heads back toward the door. I pull his wrist; he stumbles; I try to counter-balance us, trip on my own shoe. His weight falls onto me to support as we both end up mostly-vertical against one wall of my entryway.

"Um, Gotou-chan?" He's draped across me, his face pressed against my chest, one arm around my waist for balance, the other hand still held in mine - and probably a bit tightly, I should let go, and I do.

Both of my hands go to his shoulders, with the intent to steady him and keep him from keeling further over.

"I think it'd be best if you got some sleep here, before you go home. Doctor's orders, okay?"

From:

doestheresearch

I look up at him warily. I wish he'd slow down, it is hard for me to keep up with him. I think he tripped me over, and now he's pulled me up and has his hands on my shoulders. Or maybe he's holding me so that I don't fall again.

"I don't need a doctor, sempai. I only fell over," I point out, and then realise that he is a doctor. Was he making a joke? Is it rude that I didn't laugh? Too late now, I'll look like the guy that never gets the punchline in time.

I won't say no to sleep, though. There's only one problem, "how will I get to work tomorrow? I've got no clothes or toothbrush." I'm not going to show up in Date-san's clothes. We are not exactly the same size, and people will jump to conclusions if they think I stayed out overnight with him.