Title: Jellyfish Love [Chapters Six: Cat and Mouse] Author: Matrim Email: matrim _ n o _ aijin @ yahoo . com (hotmail isn't working so use that one) Warnings: Gackt, mentions of Mr. Ao, a Mr. Shinji (be smart, you know who it is), love hotels, nekkid men, introspective Kamijo and that's all in chapter six. Comments: I think I've just crossed all the lines of music. Jpop, Visual Kei, Angura Kei. Quite frightening! One of these days I'll try to write them all down in a list. I tried to beta it. No guarantees. XD; ++ Kirito sits at the bar, in a corner, where it's easy for him to look inconspicuous. He isn't suited up to do a killing but he is dressed in a way that would make it easy for him to pull one if he were to feel like it. Even before he signals for a drink, a large Kirin beer and a glass is set down in front of him. He looks up to nod his thanks and is surprised to see Katsura there and not Kamijo. "Where's Blondie?" "You know he hates when he's called that." "Then maybe he should stop laughing like he enjoys it." Katsura only shrugs and smiles. Kirito has yet to see anything that brings Katsura down for too long. He has a bad feeling that whatever makes Katsura upset would make Kirito go out and fix it under the table for him (so to speak). The bartender was just that type of person. "Maybe he's nervous around you." "Everyone should be nervous around me." Kirito says as he pours the beer into the small glass. He watches the crowd with an experienced eye and gestures Katsura near. "Anything out of the ordinary?" "No." "Thought so." "You mean…that's not a good thing? This time?" Kirito gives him a bland look and Katsura is visibly resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "The only weird thing around here is that Kamijo's been taken by a pretty club thing with long legs." The bartender says only after he takes care of other drink orders. "I told him not to do it. You never know where they've been." "Does he always shirk work in order to chase after some—" Katsura tactfully intervenes, "Yes, but don't tell Die and Kaoru. After that disappointment with Mayu and then Machi disappearing? I thought he'd pretend to be Mr. Happy-No-Really-I'm-Happy forever." "He was starting to get on my nerves." "We all get on your nerves, Kirito. We figured that's how you accept us." Katsura tells him and with a smile too so Kirito'll feel like a jerk when he scowls. Kirito scowls anyway but Katsura's turning away and can't see it. "I hate Die. Why would I want to tell him something that would benefit him?" Kirito mutters under his breath and when Katsura gives him a curious look, he waves it off. "Is that all?" Katsura thinks to himself and while he's thinking, he finishes a few more orders. He talks to the other bartender (apparently covering for the missing Kamijo) that he'll be taking a brief break. Katsura reaches for some water and leans on the counter in order not to have their conversation be overheard by anyone else. "Ryutaro's not working as secretary at the recording studio." "Why not? Was he fired?" "No. I don't know. Camui didn't say and he couldn't be bothered. He was too stressed to even give more than the fact that some temp is filling in for him. Shinji…or something." Katsura says. He glances at Kirito as if wanting to ask him something but refraining because he's afraid of the answer. Kirito nods and takes one last sip of his beer before leaving it and handing Katsura some money and a tip. Katsura is a good man but there’re things that he shouldn't know. Kirito wonders if anyone else feels that way, too, but dismisses the thought. He has better things to do than pick over the way people deal with other people. Kirito slips out onto the streets and moves through the crowd silently. He begins heading down quiet streets where the love hotels were, but unlike the people who walk those streets—he meets people's eyes. They shuffle away quickly but Kirito gains no pleasure in this. They're not the real prey. Shinya told him to hunt down a potential spy and was told explicitly that this one was different. But if he used Ryutaro to get in as a spy, maybe he wasn't that different. Then again, Camui was easily distracted. Slipping into an alley, he removes a key from his pocket and unlocks a door. He opens it, slips inside and lets it close quietly behind him. To all intents and purposes, it looked like an unused door but on the inside, it was different. From the outside, the building was to resemble the love hotels around it excepting the fact that it had no prices out on display and unless you were invited (or you were like Kirito), you couldn't get in. The floors were wooden and the decorations in the building resembled a tea house. Kirito knows that the deeper you got into the building, the more the tea house look faded away into that of a studio. Kirito never understood the need for decadence. He removes his shoes because he has to in order to get on everyone's good side and sets his shoes in the little shelf provided by the entrance he just used. Katsura said that Ryutaro wasn't working as a secretary any more but there was just more than one. Camui always had more than one because he couldn't contain himself to just one. One secretary would find themselves burnt out and maybe Ryutaro went on vacation for that reason alone. Just to be sure, Kirito took a detour down the hall to the main entrance. Kirito opens the sliding door gently and uses the sandals there to cross the stone garden to the other side and opens the next door. He abandons the sandals and looks to see a familiar black haired head bent over some paperwork. No one can see Ryutaro from the main entrance as is the custom for most love hotels (even though this isn't a love hotel) so no one will see Kirito scare Ryutaro either. He doesn't mean to but there isn't any other way. Kirito's hand comes down on the other man's shoulder and the secretary jumps and rolls the desk chair away from him so hard that it slams against the wooden wall. "K-Kirito?!" "Yes." "I'm…I'm very sorry." Ryutaro says, nearly leaping off the chair to give Kirito the lowest bow imaginable from a standing position. "I thought you were Mr. Gackt." Kirito suppresses a smile. "Katsura said you weren't working as secretary anymore, Ryutaro. What happened? Who is this Shinji person?" Ryutaro straightens from his bow and fixes the tie around his neck that fits him about as well as a tutu would. "You see, Kirito…" And he doesn't add a Mr. on because Kirito told him not to. "You know how—how Mr. Gackt is and-and-he's been working all day and all night and well, it was my turn to work as his personal secretary but there was no one to man the front and security guards don't know what they're doing and well…" Kirito swears the man is about to cry but thankfully he doesn't. His face is red and flustered. "Mr. Gackt…he…uh…he works too hard sometimes and I can't always catch up and no one wanted to come into work because they said they work so hard during the day and Mr. Gackt needs someone and he's busy recording with Mr. Klaha so…but…I was so tired so I called a temp agency and they sent Mr. Shinji in—" And now Ryutaro's voice was a shade above whispering which indicates to Kirito that the secretary thought he did something bad now. "Ryutaro, you didn't." "I was so tired! And he said he could handle anything and I'm so scared to go check on him and I know Mr. Gackt can be so intent on—" "On trying to get into someone's pants?" Ryutaro gave him a wretched look. "He said he could take care of himself. Akira said he'd come by soon and give me a ride home." "And who'll take over the front?" "Mr. Ao." "And you think Mr. Ao will be able to hold off Mr. Gackt?" Kirito says before he even realizes that he's adding Misters onto names. He frowns at himself then glances to Ryutaro. "They're good at irritating each other so … so Mr. Gackt can actually work." Ryutaro says in a small voice and Kirito resists the urge to pat him on the head. "Thank you, Ryutaro. I'll be going to see Camui, now." "Okay, Kirito. But don't tell him that Mr. Ao's coming in, please? And…and…" "I'll keep a lookout for Mr. Shinji." "Thank you." Ryutaro finally sits down on his chair and goes back to work as Kirito moves back the way he came. Instead, of turning down a hall to go back to the side door, Kirito walks up the wooden staircase. There are framed records in the hall that are covered in platinum or gold. As Kirito makes his way down the hall, he can see the beginnings of a simple little reception area. A Persian rug is spread out under the glass desk. The desk is placed in front of a door that leads to the studio and beyond. A bright green haired man sits at the desk, writing on something. Kirito clears his throat deliberately but the other man doesn't even jump. This is odd because Kirito's steps were too quiet to be heard. Or at least, they were supposed to be too quiet. The man looks up—straight into Kirito's eyes then away. Kirito's used to this sort of reaction but the reaction previous still bothers him. This must be Shinji. He looks rather tired. "I'm here to see Camui." "Do you have an appointment?" Definitely a temp. "Just say Kirito is here." Shinji stares at him but Kirito could outstare an owl. Finally, Shinji sighs and stands. He opens the door and closes it behind him. After a few moments, Shinji returns and sits back down at his desk. "He will be with you shortly." And he gestures to a seat near the wall. "I'd rather stand." They stare at each other for a moment but are interrupted by Gackt opening the door. He gestures Kirito over and closes the door behind them. "Meet the new secretary?" "Quite the charmer, isn't he?" "Just your type." Gackt smiles. Kirito snorts, "Sure. If I want to kill him, I'll let you know." As Kirito makes his way further into Gackt's lair (as he likes to call it), he accustoms himself to the quiet of the studio—a sort of inhuman mechanic peace. Klaha sits in the actual studio itself, beyond the glass window. He's drinking water. "What's up?" Gackt asks before Kirito can say anything about thinking Klaha-the-Opera-Goth drank blood not water. "I'm investigating strange things." "Like Ryutaro no longer wanting me? I thought he was enjoying himself." Kirito goes on as if Gackt hadn't even opened his mouth. "We don't quite care about what you do to your secretaries, Camui. It's about the replacement." "Shinji?" Gackt sits at the console and watches Klaha for a second. He turns back to Kirito. "He's efficient, clean, firm, unafraid and…" "And?" "He feels….wrong." Kirito thinks that Camui doesn't just mean that Shinji won't sleep with him. "He didn't even jump when I cleared my throat." "Excuse me?" Kirito shakes his head slightly. "Ryutaro didn't hear me when I came to him and nearly hurt himself trying to get away when I surprised him. No one hears me if I don't want them too. But when I came to your office, Shinji's head was down and my footsteps weren't heard. I cleared my throat but Shinji didn't even jump." "Ryutaro is easy to startle." "Maybe." Kirito says, with a tone of someone who wants to scream the word no. "The only other person who isn't startled by me would be Shinya." Camui gestures for Klaha to come into the studio then turns to face Kirito again. "Are you suggesting that I have a spy in my studio?" Kirito shakes his head. "No. But whatever it is, I'll deal with it." ++ In a real hotel room, Kamijo sits in bed and ponders his dilemma. He is naked except for a sheet across his lap. He's just ordered room service and it will arrive at any moment. However, he has a new—boyfriend?—lover?—prancing around the room as naked as the day he was born. Well, not exactly prancing but one would get the picture. Trying to convince the other man to put on a bathrobe for just five minutes was beginning to prove to be a daunting task. At least, he had managed to get him away from the window. Kamijo had gone out dancing one night and came home with a phone number. He usually didn't go to clubs like that and for good reason, too. People stared at him and scared him, but a man had come and everyone just stopped staring. The next few days he'd found himself in the presence of Toshiya, for that was his name. He was the type that Kamijo's mother had warned about (in women) and Kamijo took her advice but— --when it came to men? Kamijo was horrible at judging them. But this one was different, definitely. And not just in the exhibitionist way, either. Kamijo glances over to Toshiya, who has finally decided to settle down and smoke a cigarette. The tall wiry man doesn't sit in the chair so much as he sprawls. His arm rests on the back of the chair while the other is left to hang off of the arm rest to dangle toward the floor. One of Toshiya's knees hooks over the opposite arm rest, bare foot nearly touching the floor while his other leg is the only limb being treated humanely. It is bent comfortably with a foot on the floor. Kamijo has no idea how Totchi accomplishes all this while not falling off and at the same time, do it all gloriously nude. He then realizes that he just said gloriously and nude in the same sentence and vows to himself to never even think it again. There's a knock on the door to distract him from thoughts about how many strange words Kamijo's using on Toshiya tonight. Kamijo stands, hurries to the bathroom and throws on a robe. He glances back to Toshiya, who continues to smoke. Thankfully, his extremities couldn't be seen from the door. Kamijo opens the door, pays for the food and wheels it in toward the chairs. "Food, Toshiya. Let's eat?" But the other man only closes his eyes and exhales smoke. Kamijo frowns. Maybe he's being used but he's trying to get used to it. Kamijo lifts the cover off of his plate and begins to eat in silence. It's not as if he's really looking for a lover. In his head, Machi was still his boyfriend even if he was…sort of…missing. Kamijo wasn't an eternal optimist but since there were issues still left unresolved between them…well… There was something strange about Machi, anyway. A mix of sadness and love and possessiveness that drove normal men insane. Kamijo cuts into the chicken and eats but he can't seem to taste it. It's probably better this way—without Machi. Kamijo can't live with ups and downs forever. He looks up only to find that Toshiya's watching him. "Chicken taste that bad?" The other man asks. He reaches for the ashtray on the desk behind him and puts out his cigarette. "Huh?" Toshiya sets the ashtray aside. He shrugs and leans forward in the way that first caught Kamijo's attention. "You had a look that suggested you'd rather eat mud than that." "Oh. Well. I…was thinking." "If thinking makes you look so depressed, don't do it. Angels shouldn't be sad." Toshiya tells him and he picks up a fork. "I told you not to order this Western crap. It can't be good for you." He pokes at a slice of chicken and pops it into his mouth. "It's fine. And I wish you'd stop that." Toshiya makes a face at the chicken then lifts the cover off of his plate to reveal okonomiyaki. "Stop what? I think we should share my food. Japanese food is best for Japanese people." "Stop calling me an angel. I knew I should've never worn white that day. And it is Japanese food. It's never really authentic in any other country." "Imitation Western food? So if Chinese food is served in Japan, it's still imitation Chinese? And I like calling you that and you look stunning in white. It fits you." "It's girly." "Check your hair lately?" "Did you see what you wore when you gave me your phone number?" "Shut up and eat your imitation food." Toshiya giggles and that really is the only appropriate word for it. Kamijo smirks and eats. He likes this. Even though he might be in the process of being used, Toshiya makes it feel pleasant. Maybe I should ask. But if I ask, I'll look like an ass. Toshiya looks up from his food and turns his chopsticks around to politely place okonomiyaki on Kamijo's plate. "Here. Eat up." "What're you doing?" "You're making that face again." The other man says and mimics it. Kamijo frowns because he knows his face isn't capable of the grotesque actions of Toshiya's face. "So it must be the food because I remember explicitly telling you not to think. Or do you need help with that?" Toshiya rests his chin on the back of his hand and leers. Kamijo's just a little bit amazed at Toshiya's stamina. Then again, the man wasn't the seme all this time and Kamijo didn't quite feel like becoming an uke any time soon. "Look—we've done it all day today and I need energy. So you just sit over there and jerk off but don't you dare touch me." Toshiya pouts and puts his hands below the table, prompting Kamijo to immediately cry out. "After dinner!" "I'll make it so you regret not wanting me to touch you." Toshiya replies, wryly but places his hands above the table and goes back to eating. "I guess this is the part of the night where we talk, isn't it?" Something flutters in Kamijo's belly but he tries to play it off by poking at his food. "If you feel like it." "What do you feel like?" Toshiya asks, ignoring Kamijo's response. Kamijo wants to tell Toshiya that they were men and men didn't necessarily have to talk about what they feel. But he also knows that this is wrong—that this is a stereotype that people won't let go of. Men feel. And they should talk about it and Toshiya was holding an opening for him. "I feel uncomfortable." There. That was a start, wasn't it? Even if Toshiya's in the process of stuffing his cheeks full of okonomiyaki before he swallows, he manages to ask the question, "Why?" It takes Kamijo five seconds to puzzle out what Toshiya's saying. "Uhh…" Might as well just say it. "You're…I just want to be clear on something." He watches Toshiya's head bobs in a sort of nod. "You're using me, aren't you?" Toshiya's head tilts like a confused puppy and after he swallows, he's frowning. "Aren't we all?" "That's not a proper answer." "That's the truth." Toshiya's gaze feels uncomfortable before he drops his eyes and rolls his shoulders back. Toshiya leans back in the chair and licks his lips. "You're the one thing that's pure in this world, Kamijo." "Then I'm afraid you have the wrong man." Where the hell is this going? He wasn't pure and he wasn't an angel. Maybe Machi was better than Toshiya—he didn't sound this strange when he was talking. "What do you want from me? I'm only a bartender. I don't have anything." "I can't give you anything more than what we have." Which means we have nothing. I suppose it's good that I know now. Kamijo knows that people are capable of having non-relationships where the only thing tying them together was sex but he's never tried it before. He pretends to be interested in his chicken so Toshiya won't tease him about his thinking face any more. "What did you want from me?" Toshiya asks, quietly. "Just the truth." And surprisingly, Kamijo means that and isn't lying. "So you mean we can still meet like this?" "Yeah. Yeah, sure." Kamijo says, because he's a sucker for a pleading voice and a pretty face. And he's lonely and he has needs, dammit. "But…but not as often. I have to work some time to afford things, you know?" He gives a bit of a smile as Toshiya waves it off as if to say that he knew that. Kamijo continues to eat and smiles funnily at his plate. Everyone has to move on some time, if not exactly in the most wholesome of ways. ++ "I can't have you sitting around here doing nothing. He's going to get suspicious." Camui tells Kirito and feels like throwing up his hands in disgust when Kirito gives him one of those looks. It took a far more patient man than himself to deal with Kirito and he doesn't envy Shinya in the least. The only thing preventing Camui from not throwing up his hands in disgust was the fact that it was inelegant and Klaha couldn't see him getting upset. He didn't want to look bad in front of the other man when he was supposed to be perfection personified. He didn't know if Klaha believed it but it seemed to be working well so far. "So you want to be alone with him?" "He's not going to kill me. I'm hardly a blip on the scale of this crime thing." Camui argues, though he's not exactly sure if what he's saying is correct. It sounds good to him so he's going to stick with it. Camui settles back into his chair to look up at the ceiling as if he were bored, just so he can avoid another one of those looks from Kirito. "You are one of the more profitable people on Shinya's side." Damn. "And Shinya does visit the studio. Let me see. Every Saturday at the 3 in the afternoon, right?" Double damn. "And if Shinji happens to realize that and Shinya has to be forced to deal with the man himself, how do you think Shinya will feel?" Camui puts a hand to his forehead and brushes the hair back. He wants to say that he'd like to see Shinya in action for once because then he'd understand what sort of man has an ability to deal with Kirito. But Camui knows that when Shinya's upset, things aren't pretty. And while he feels a kinship with the younger man—a sort of older brother dealing with a younger spoiled dangerous one—he knows how fast that sort of bond can slip and dissolve into nothing if he's not careful. "Who says he's a spy?" Thankfully, this time, Kirito spares him one of his looks. "You don’t live as long as I have without asking the question." "So how will you stake out the studio? He knows you don't work here." And Camui knows he's going to hell for asking the next question but he can't help himself but Kirito was asking for it. "Hmm. Do you sing?" Camui suppresses laughter but what Kirito says next floors him. "Actually," Kirito says, slowly and with complete seriousness. "I do." ++ To Chapter Seven Jelly Home Fics Home