suju786 (suju786) wrote,
suju786
suju786

I Think I Hate You Enough To Love You 17/? (5/8)



“Yours,” the younger waggled his eyebrows back, while Jin fake-gagged.
“How’re we friends…?” He muttered, turning away again.
“Dude, shut up – you love me,” Yamapi laughed.
“Yeah, why?” Jin asked the heavens, “he’s a piece of shit, God why’re you torturing me?” He continued talking to the ceiling for a while longer as the younger wheezed, laughing harder and harder.

Halfway through his monologue, Jin trailed off and turned slightly to watch, the fond grin that tugged at his lips being a thing of complete subconscious and nature. (Fifty-seven dead). “Hey,” he started after a moment.
“Tomo,” he called louder, and the younger quieted, laughs fading into a big bright smile as he tilted his head endearingly to glance at the elder.
“Yeah?” He replied.

“…,” Jin took an audible breath, eyes carefully blank and boring straight through the younger rather than at him. It was better than having to look him directly in the eye – Jin wasn’t ready for that just yet. “For falling out of touch with you after 2008,” he started solemnly, then looked down slowly, fingers tapping – rapping away, fidgeting – against the marble island top. “For not being around after I got married-.”
“Ji-?”

“Sorry.” Jin turned a little; face somber as he eyed his confused best friend, he repeated, “I’m sorry.” He apologized simply.
The smile was gone now, and Yamapi blinked furiously, gaping – mouth moving wordlessly – until he finally shook his head. “H-Hah?” He stuttered after a moment, “wha – Jin, are you high?” He snatched at his mug, sniffing around in it, “did you put anything in your-?”
“I mean it,” the elder frowned, turning his entire body to face him – face desperately serious; “Tomo, I mean it – I’m sorry I wasn’t-.”

The younger opened his mouth – “listen to me,” Jin snapped, reaching out to grab both is arms and hold him in place, “I’m being serious here, just listen for a sec.”
And Yamapi’s eyes whipped around frantically like he was trying to search for hidden cameras; mouth still open when he couldn’t find any, his gaze fell back onto his best friend after a moment and he shook his head. “Uh…,” he mumbled, confused about what to do with himself.

“I wasn’t around for you after your father died. I never was – even when we were kids,” Jin bit the inner edge of his lip, “I’m sorry about that, I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me about things, I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide parts of your life from me – I’m sorry I ignored you, didn’t make enough time for you after meeting Kazuya, after debuting, after Meisa – I’m sorry-.”

“OKAY!” Yamapi burst into an uncomfortable bout of laughter, frantically wiggling out of Jin’s grasp and flapping his hands obnoxiously like he was trying to shoo the words out of the air before anyone could take heed of them. “Bro – okay!” He cleared his throat, “it’s fine! Totally fine – don’t worry about it – makes you look weird,” he added in a quieter voice earning himself a scowl.

“Jin, it’s fine,” he insisted a little more soberly after a moment of silence, “I mean it, Jin – even if…,” he paused for a moment, eyes wandering downward like he was trying to figure out if he should say what he was thinking or not, “…even if…,” he swallowed and quickly shook his head, “even if you had been with me all my life, things would’ve gone the same way – I would’ve made the same dumb mistakes, and done the same dumb things, and gotten into the same dumb situations – you couldn’t have stopped any of it.”

I could’ve stopped you from going to Kazuya’s auction that night – Jin grimaced at the thought.

“Look, even with you in my life 24/7, I would’ve lived the same dumb life, Jin – don’t think you could’ve changed anything,” Yamapi insisted, “I’m my own person, so calm down.”
Jin didn’t. If anything, he felt worse.
“Besides, you,” Yamapi leaned in, “you had a family, Arisa was on the way – you were trying to leave Johnny’s Juniors – you were busy,” he explained Jin’s situation in such a way that made it look like the elder was an innocent victim of shitty timing, “of course you didn’t have time for me, I didn’t expect you to – besides,” he winked, “Ryo and I enslaved your ass, remember? You made up for being a shithead,” he thumped Jin on the back, “so chill,” he pushed gently at the man, “okay?”

Not Okay.

Because Jin wasn’t an innocent victim of bad timing. Jin was just Jin; self-centered and ignorant Jin, blissfully believing that his only problem went by the name Kamenashi Kazuya and that no one else could have it worse considering his 100 million USD debt to Johnny after he’d been fired from the company. Yet here his own insane best friend stood telling him that he could’ve done nothing for him; nothing to save him despite the fact that if Jin had just been there, he would’ve known about Yamapi much sooner. If he’d just… godammit.
“Jin,” Yamapi ducked, trying to catch the look on his face. “Jiiiin?”

Jin didn’t answer. He stared hollowly at the mass murderer in front of him and remembered for what had to be tenth time now, fifty-seven dead.

He could’ve stopped that from happening. He could’ve simply invited Yamapi to dinner with his family while Kazuya’s auction had been in the making, taken him to a party, gone over for a visit, called him over to discuss work stuff – anything. He could’ve stopped that genocide, he could’ve stopped his best friend from even becoming a mass murderer, from becoming - CLACK.

Jin blinked. It took him a minute to register the sound, then another minute to register that it was his head that had made the sound.
His head colliding with a hard, plastic plate.

He squeaked rather belatedly and jumped to protect his aching skull as he scowled with teary eyes over Yamapi’s shoulder where Kazuya stood, casually flapping a hand. “It slipped,” he shrugged shamelessly. And Jin remained shocked speechless at this unabashed display as the younger loped past to bang around in the cupboards until he found a cup.
Yamapi chuckled, saying something that included the word asshole, and Kazuya smirked, replying as he reached between the two of them to grab the coffee pot. “…did you…?” Jin made out as he glanced right at the two who were now chatting casually like Kazuya hadn’t just greeted them with a plate to Jin’s head – “you,” Jin snarled, grabbing at his head.

“Ow, ow, ow -,” Kazuya protested as the elder forced him to face him.
“The fuck is this?” Jin clapped the plastic plate against the younger’s skull in retribution, “we’re fighting again?”
“Weren’t we – owwwwwww,” Kazuya whined loudly while Yamapi pulled out his phone and started recording them, “Jin stoppppp, come on-,” he lifted his hands out to shield himself from the attack, “quit it, you already-.”
“Hah? ‘Quit it’ my ass, since wh…-,” he stopped. Trailed off wordlessly, eyes falling to the bandages wrapped around Kazuya’s wrists. (“Jin, what did you do?!”)

He grimaced, rage softening as he slowly let go of the younger.
“Hn?” Kazuya peeked up at him, flexing his hands when he realized he was free, “oh?” He perked up, “sweet,” he turned back to Yamapi and the two started talking again – “called again…,” Yamapi rolled his eyes at something, “again?” Kazuya laughed, “…what did he…?”

All the while Jin kept staring.

Had he…? Had Kazuya hurt himself because of what Jin had made him remember? Was it his fault? He looked down at his own wrists, remembering the way in which they were connected, how whatever pain and pleasure inflicted upon the younger was as much as Kazuya’s as it was his own, albeit not as intense.

Where Kazuya’s nails had torn mindlessly into his own skin, it had only left a few meager scratches on Jin’s own. Where he’d needed gauze and bandages, Jin had just needed a little cold water. Was their connection getting weaker?
Did he even remember doing that to himself? They were deep scratches, why hadn’t he woken himself up to begin with? – “Jin.”

“Hah?” The elder blinked. He glanced up, only to find Kazuya looking down at something between them.
He turned down; realized belatedly that he was holding the younger’s wrist again. A blurry, dark red stain was beginning to show through the off-white taping. He flinched, recoiling with a little too much fervor.
“I-!” He’d meant to say he was sorry, but it never came out; eyes fixed obsessively on the younger’s wrist instead – had that been his fault?

“Ow-!” He yelped when something sharp exploded at the center of his forehead. “What.” He snapped gruffly as Kazuya pulled his hand away from his head.
“Don’t think so much,” the younger poked at his temple, “it doesn’t suit you.”
“Is that advice or an insult?”
“Both,” Kazuya shrugged.
Jin rolled his eyes with a sigh and decided not to indulge the tease. “Are your…,” he started after a moment just as the latter turned to follow after Yamapi as he idled away from them.

“Hn?” He turned back, and Jin gestured as vaguely as possible in the general direction of where Kazuya’s hands hung near his thighs. “Is that… going to be alright?” He prompted hesitantly.
And his bandmate blinked, looking like he hadn’t understood what he was being asked for a second before looking down. A stretch of silence filled with the background noise of waking idols and rowdy juniors settled between them for a few minutes.

“K-?”
“Let’s play,” Kazuya suddenly changed the subject.
“Wh-?” Jin wheezed, breath punched straight from his lungs when his bandmate caught his arm and suddenly dragged him over to one of the conversation where groups of juniors were sitting in little circles playing card games.











“Move,”Kazuya shoved Yamapi’s legs aside as he dropped down beside Junno in one of the groups, “we’re playing poker!” He called as Junno snatched up a stray pile of cards while he forced Jin into the ring of juniors of and idols playing behind them.

“Wai- Kazu – sto-,” Jin never managed to get more than that out as the juniors crowded around him and Uchi, who sat opposite to him, offered him a sympathetic smile.
“Tsk,” he frowned ever so slightly, turning over his shoulder. “You’re avoiding me now?” He asked the brunette behind him.
“We’re playing our poker,” Kazuya returned with a wink, which meant that he expected Jin to cooperate with him while he cheated.

Why he understood that cue without any inherent signals would be a mystery everyone would attribute to them and their general Akame-ness, but for now, he sighed and turned back.
“We’re talking after this,” he said as Uchi started dealing in his own circle.
“No, we aren’t,” Kazuya returned just as easily before adding, “Akanishi, when did you buy Meisa her diamond ring?”

Ace of Diamonds.

Jin turned again and narrowed his eyes down at the younger for changing the subject.
Kazuya just crooked an eyebrow back as his phone began to ring in his back pocket. “When?” He persisted.
And Jin managed to hold his scowl for an extra minute before sighing and turning to face forward again. Glancing down as he flipped over his hand, he muttered, “I didn’t,” when he saw he didn’t have the card his bandmate was asking for.
“Useless,” Kazuya grumbled, turning back to his own game where the two of them continued played clean for a while until Jin and Junno started dealing.

Candy was the currency at stake. And they were KAT-TUN. It was inevitable.

“Here we go,” Yuya snorted from where he sat curled up between Masuda and Yamapi’s feet on the sofa beside the cheaters.
“…hear about Senator Yuudai?” Kazuya started it off, talking nonstop nonsense to Junno, throwing his key words around with just enough crafty hinting, “he advocates for preventing global warming but shovels out all this bullshit about industrializing rural areas-,”
Ace of spades, this time – Jin went with it because Kazuya was avoiding him best he could anyway; not like they could talk privately in this setting to begin with – Kazuya had thrown them into juniorville knowing it would be the best way to avoid talking secrets after all.

Jin heaved a reluctant sigh, throwing his all into the game instead. Maybe if he got through this quickly, he could get Kazuya by himself to talk sooner rather than later – and so he leaned to his side, propped himself up on the heel of his palm and subtly slipped his ace of spades card behind his back. “How many more rounds should we play?” He continued talking to his own group, “ten?” He grinned slyly at the groaning teenagers, “I’d love to see how you’re planning on beating me.”

And Kazuya slipped him a ten of hearts a back.

Three seconds later saw them both setting down their hands and calling Royal Flushes. Junno grinned mischievously as he collected the candy at the center. “Again?” the juniors in their circles whined, while Uchi sighed piteously.
Yamapi who’d seen the entire thing from his vantage point, lying on the sofa beside them sniffed haughtily, “30% or I’m talking,” he warned the two of them.
Jin promptly chucked a Snickers and a Twix bar at his face. “Shut up then.”

“Kame-senpai, no fair – why’re you so good at this?” One of the bleach blondes pouted, Takeshima Uruha, was it?
“Are you cheating?” The brunette – Daisuke - at his side leaned in suspiciously, while their senpai fluttered his eyelashes innocently, “I haven’t the slightest,” - and answered a call that set his phone ringing at that terribly convenient second, “yes, Kamenashi speaking?”
“Ugh,” Yuya rolled his eyes, “you aren’t supposed to play against KAT-TUN for a reason, brats,” he muttered into his magazine.

Jin threw a pack of strawberry pocky sticks his way and smiled slyly – “don’t be bitter,” he tilted his head towards his best friend endearingly and Yuya narrowed his eyes at the subtle gesture.
Glancing down at his box of pocky and then at Yamapi, he cocked a brow at Jin. “What’re you implying, Bakanishi?”
“Nothing,” the latter shrugged all too quickly and turned back to his game.

Nonstop nonsense dictated the next few rounds once more; pointless chatter that no one but KAT-TUN members would actually understand:
“….yeah, did you hear about Tou? He got engaged - let his fiancée pick from three diamond rings for...”
Three of Diamonds.
“Kid, if your girlfriend is such a diva about this, just take her out to that one club uh, Double Tokyo...”
Queen of Clubs.
“Hah? My niece? She’s eighteen, majoring in geology, you know – like how coal turns into diamonds and stuff?” – Kazuya’s niece was in fact, nineteen and majoring in Biochemistry at the University of Tokyo. All the same, Jin slipped an eight of diamonds and the younger played at picking up a call from the phone in his back pocket as he pulled the card from his bandmate’s fingers.

“Full house,” he grinned a moment later after he’d finished talking to whoever it was that had just called him, and set down his hand.

“Uggggghhhh!” The blonde junior, Uruha, flung his cards up into the air, melting hopelessly into the carpet while Junno laughed and recollected all the cards.
“Hooowwwww?” Another kid wailed, “even if you are cheating-.”
“Which I’m not,” Kazuya fluffed his hair self-consciously.
“-How’re you doing it?!”

“Lucky~,” his senpai winked at him, and the kid’s face screwed up into a stiff pout.
Popping out two fingers he pointed at his own eyes then pointed at Kazuya and did it a few more times for good measure. “I’m watching you, senpai,” he warned.
And Kazuya just smiled down into his phone while Junno dealt the next round.

They continued for a while like that until Jin opted out two rounds later, having decided he’d stolen enough from his underclassmen.
“Move, fatass,” he booted Yamapi off into Yuya and settled down near the opposite end with his winnings – “hey,” he grunted when his best friend stretched back out, getting halfway into Jin’s lap where he could reach the candy and flinging his legs over Yuya’s.

“Thanks,” he drawled as he started in on Jin’s sweets.
And the elder rolled his eyes, deciding not to comment. Instead he distracted himself, watching how Kazuya and Junno continued playing without his input for the next few rounds, just barely make note of Yamapi’s phone which kept ringing off the hook on the raised part of the headrest of the couch they were both sitting on.

“How?” Yamapi asked after Kazuya won the next two rounds without Jin’s help.
“Junno’s dealing funny,” his best friend replied vaguely, finally glancing over at the ringing device by his head seeing as how this was probably the tenth time it had gone off since he’d left his game.

“Who’s calling you?” He frowned at the caller ID which read, fashionista. “Crazy girlfriend?”
“Mental patient,” the younger corrected casually, reaching up near Jin’s arm to pull down his phone and eye the call screen. He stared at it for an extra moment before rolling around in his best friend’s lap and poking Kazuya in the head with it.

“Are we still ignoring him?” He asked waving it obnoxiously in Kazuya’s face when the younger didn’t spare him any heed.
“Yes.”
“He keeps calling though,” Yamapi wrinkled his nose, lifting his phone back in front of his face.
“Turn off your phone.”

“No.”
“Then deal with it – straight flush,” Kazuya added with a sly grin as he set down his cards and racked up his winnings.
“I’m out,” Uruha surrendered, throwing his cards into the center of the circle of falling backward to land on his back. “Same,” his brunette friend, Daisuke, sighed, throwing in his own hand, “Kame-senpai, this is getting boring -,” he called as he flopped back onto the carpet as well, “let’s play truth or dare,”

“No, wait!” One of the other juniors shoved an accusing finger in Junno’s face. “I’ve got it!” He proclaimed bravely.
Junno smirked, waterfalling the cards as he shuffled them. “Have you?”
The kid nodded fiercely, then whipped his finger into Kazuya’s face, “senpai, one last round – I’m beating you this time.”
“Oh?” Kazuya cocked a brow challengingly. And this time his phone rang insistently instead of Yamapi’s. “Here,” he held his hand out to his bandmate with a smirk, “I’ll deal,” he said as he snatched up his phone with his free hand and glanced at the screen, ‘Kwon Jiyong’ it read. Jin’s brow rose. And Kazuya huffed, rolling his eyes as he picked up the call.

Yamapi immediately leaned in, while the younger turned up the volume on his phone to let him hear. Jin watched as he eavesdropped.
“You’re checking on me,” he heard him answered, “why are you checking on me, Jiyong?”

Again, with this Jiyong person? Jin frowned slightly, remembering the eight calls Kazuya had gotten earlier. Was that the person who’d been blowing up Yamapi and Kazuya’s phones just now-?

“Well?” Kazuya cocked his head, holding his phone between his head and shoulder as he started dealing.
“I’m not,” came his caller’s predictable reply, “I’m just-.”

“-Worried that something’s happened to me. Why are you so worried-?”
“I told you, it’s nothing-.”
“Yes, and the sky’s purple,” Kazuya wrinkled his nose, “‘fess up, will you? I’m in the middle of extorting candy out of children, I can’t have you calling up in another ten minutes.”
“I won’t!”

Pause.

That Jiyong also shut up, told Kazuya that he was rethinking his tactic; and going by the quiet sigh that followed, he celebrated his victory with a small smile. Yamapi rolled his eyes and bonked him on the head, tilting his own so that he could hear better.
“Hrm, they’ve been calling left and right,” they heard him clear his throat before speaking up and fast, “executives, consiglieri, heirs, left tenants - Nisiguchi’s kid has been skipping out on recent transactions, they say.”

“The mafia are calling you…?” Yamapi mumbled, “about Nisiguchi Kozaro?”

“So?” Kazuya frowned; tilting his head back to glance at Yamapi, who leaned against him now, ear pressed right up against the opposite side of his phone as he listened in.
“So, I’m a part of your…,” pause, “-thing -!”

Kazuya snorted.
Yamapi rolled his eyes.
“They’re obviously going to be bothering me about your disappearing mafia heirs if you aren’t going to pick up their FUCKING CALLS, KAZUYA,” Jiyong threw back, unfazed, “I have performances lined up back to back, you know? I’m busy, you asshole. I’m backstage right now-.”

“ ‘Kay, so then don’t waste any more time checking up on me then,” the elder returned with the obvious, and earned an irritated growl for his trouble.
“HOW am I not supposed to?! The Cazzerone Family’s suddenly taking impromptu trips to Japan at the same time Kozaro’s gone missing - you think that isn’t going to disturb me some?”
“Well I’m not dead yet, if that’s what you need to know-.”
“Talk to the Hikifune brat, will you?!”

“And say what?” Kazuya wrinkled his nose, “we’re First Syndicate, remember? Kozaro isn’t exactly our problem-.”
“HE’S EVERYONE’S PROBLEM!” Jiyong barked.
And Yamapi winced, inching away while the younger rolled his eyes.

“Look,” G-Dragon now, ever the composed leader of Big Bang, was back - voice lowering sensibly as he continued, “I know I’m being paranoid, but last my contacts heard, Kozaro was seen boarding a national flight at your airport-.”
Yamapi tensed, eyes widening. Kazuya sat up.

They cast sidelong glances at each other and read the same panic in each other’s eyes.

“Where to?” Yamapi spoke first.
“It was a private flight at a reserved terminal, I couldn’t tell you-,” Jiyong replied, “but, he’s not in the capital anymore.”
Kazuya looked away, eyes immediately seeking out his personal guard.

“I’m being a paranoid freak, I know-,” Jiyong repeated meanwhile on his phone, “but I know you’re in Okinawa, and people are telling me that Kozaro knows Kei’s back from Honolulu. Someone’s been leaking that info to him,” his listeners swallowed, “I mean, you know what I’m getting at, right?” he prodded on, “if Kozaro is getting cute with stupid ideas again…”
He needn’t finish the sentence.

Nisiguchi Kozaro, son of the Second Yakuza Syndicate’s boss, outwardly hated Hikifune Kei to a fault. Kidnapping and flaunting both Kazuya, Kai, and other various, valuable individuals in front of him while demanding either a position in the First Yakuza Syndicate or an obscene ransom, was something he’d done innumerable times in the past - if rumor had it that he knew Kei was back in Tokyo, and if he was brazen enough to have left his father’s syndicate in order to chase after Kazuya so that he could pick at the returned heir’s brain…

…it wasn’t too unbelievable a story.

Kazuya got the point. 
Jiyong having called him over fifteen times and Yamapi some odd number of times as well in the last seven hours now made more sense than it should’ve, and so he fell into silence.

“Just…,” their caller cleared his throat again, softly, “I’ve been hearing weird things lately so…,” he hesitated for a second, “stay safe, yeah? We’re all dead if he gets to you first-.”
“He won’t,” Kazuya ensured, “what’s wrong with you, getting all obsessive compulsive on me – your boy toy’s going to get jealous, you know?” he added in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Literally, no joke though -,” Jiyong bought into the attempt all the same, “he told me to marry you the next time I brought you up in bed-,” he snickered.
“You did what?” Kazuya huffed incredulously.

Yamapi rolled his eyes, flopping back onto Jin and resuming being a useless potato once the two narcissists got caught up in themselves.

“I was telling him about that time at the club!” Jiyong snapped back, “come on, 2013 – your friend was so trashed it was sad, how could I not tell him?”
“Ohhh, wait that time with-?”
“Yeaaahhh,” Jiyong said it the way one would probably say duuhhh.

Kazuya laughed quietly - “and he didn’t like it?” he asked back, “how could he not like it? Everyone likes that story.”
“Right?” Jiyong whined, “I have the best boyfriend ever, don’t I?”
“Pfffft, you do, Jiyong - you’re probably just the worst piece of shit boyfriend back to him being like that - what’re you? Stupid?” Kazuya rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers abruptly to let Junno know how and to whom he’d dealt a few choice cards, “talking about me in bed, you’re supposed to be screwing, dumbass.”

“I waaaaaaaaaaasss. Asshole. You think I’m that awful of a person, do you?”
“Yeah, I actually do-.”
“UAGH!” Jiyong shrieked dramatically, and the elder could just see him throwing a hand over his heart.

“Best frenemy much-?!” he carried on, voice shooting through the octaves while Kazuya crumpled into a fit of giggles, wheezing as apologized insincerely through his laughs.
“Aiiiiishhh, whatever - on second thought,” Jiyong sassed back, “I hope Kozaro gets to you, I’ll start preparing your funeral, loser.”
“At Kaiyou-tei?” - they had a dark inside joke about that.

Jiyong choked, laughing as hard as did, “oh my Gooodddddddd,” he gasped, while the elder snickered, “go die, Kamenashi - seriously. Just go die in a hole, the world’s better off without you - youdon’tdeservetolive.”
“Kozaro’s coming to do that anyway,” Kazuya whined back, picking up a drink a junior had handed off to him during one of the earlier rounds of blackjack, “why can’t you just be a decent human being and wish me farewell?” he demanded around his straw.
“Because I’m not a decent human being and you’re an asshole that deserves to die,” Jiyong huffed back matter-of-factly, “now go away, I have a stage to get to, comeback at Inkigayo.”
“Mm~,” the elder hummed, swallowing down his drink, “good luck - or no wait-.”

“I don’t need any-,” GD declared cockily.
“-Because you’re fab-YOU-LOOSE-,” another inside joke, one that Yamapi knew this time because he copped to a stupid-looking grin, “now go to hell,” Kazuya admonished, “I hope you slip and fall to your death onstage, bae.”
“Yes, and I hope Kozaro slits your throat and dumps you into the ocean, love - see ya in hell,” and Jiyong hung up while Kazuya was busy laughing.

Jin, who’d watched the entire exchange as an outsider sitting crammed at one end of the sofa Yamapi was sprawled selfishly across, regarded what little one-sided part of the conversation he’d heard - incredulously. Kwon Jiyong - G-Dragon, actually G-Dragon. Why in the hell was someone like him involved in this Mafioso mess?

Given the thought, Kwon Jiyong and Kamenashi Kazuya were petals of the same flower and birds of the same feather in terms of comparison - but never, had he even once considered the delusion of them being such close friends - as in, yes – he’d read of the wonderful, magical friendship that had blossomed between the two during the past recent years, God knew that tabs had played it up as much as they possibly could - but this close?

To the point where that guy knew more than he did about this entire Mafia thing?
How did that even fit?

“Kwon Jiyong.” He cocked a brow down at his best friend.
“Oh, you heard?” Yamapi blinked up at him.
“You know G-Dragon?” Jin just wheezed back.
“Uh…,” Yamapi started glancing at things that weren’t Jin.
“Like the G-Dragon, you know The G-Dragon?”

“I mean… matter of circumstance,” the younger shrugged, smiling sheepishly, “I got to know him through Jaejoong… kind of,” he rolled around obnoxiously on Jin’s lap, “doesn’t matter though,” he threw in before the latter could ask, “how’s Reio by the way?” He conveniently changed the subject.
Jin narrowed his eyes at him.

Yamapi grinned wider.
“Talk,” Jin frowned.
“Later,” Pi held his hands up in a plea.
“Now.”
“La-.”

“FULL HOUSE!”

Jin and Pi glanced over.
The junior that had challenged Kazuya and Junno was dancing around in front of them, whooping at the top of his lungs while his fellow juniors just groaned and threw in their hands mumbling sullenly. “Whatevvvs,” Uruha, who’d gotten out in the previous round, yelled over the victorious kid, “Kame-senpai,” he turned his attention onto the idol, “truth or dare.”

“Terrible idea because I know what you’re going to ask,” Kazuya retorted, but shrugged nevertheless, “let’s play,” he grinned.
“Yesssss!” Daisuke, who lay beside the blonde pumped a fist into the air, immediately sitting back up.

“Tatsuya-senpai!” He pointed excitedly up at the freshly risen man as he rounded around the sofa, stretching as he yawned and dropped down beside Kazuya.
“Hn,” he grunted groggily.
“Bad idea,” Kazuya called over as he leaned behind his sleepy bandmate to grab the magazine Yuya was reaching over Yamapi to hand to him, “start with someone else, kid.”

“Uhh… Jin-senpai!”
The soloist cocked his brow without saying anything.
“Truth or Dare?”

“KAT-TUN always does dares,” Sakurai contributed unhelpfully, sitting farther towards the end of their large sofa.
Jin made a face at him. True to the asshole he was, Sakurai bowed his head back with a flourish, mouthing ‘enjoy.’
The junior before them lit up like a Christmas tree, “make out with-!”
“Nope,” Jin declined.
“Joykill,” Sakurai snorted.
Jin promptly flipped him off.

“Yamapi-senpai!” The kid called instead, unfazed by rejection.
“Dare,” the elder replied, grinning up at his best friend who scowled back down at him because they both knew where the kid was going with this.
“Make out with Jin-senpai!”

“Do not,” Jin warned as the younger puckered his lips.
“Aww, come on – it’s just-,” Jin promptly dropped a heavy fist into his head. “Next,” he sighed as the younger flopped back into his lap whimpering piteously.

The junior pouted. And the elder tilted his head, ever so slightly amused, “get real, brat. You didn’t actually think it’d happen, did you?” He chuckled, “come on, choose your next victim -,” he knocked Kazuya in the head with his knee, “before this one decides to dare you.”
Daisuke flinched, Kazuya smirked wordlessly into his magazine and the junior backed off to sit beside his friend with a sullen pout. Meanwhile one of the older juniors sitting a little outside the circle near the ridged, black wall opposite to everyone on the couch put down the book he was reading and perked up.

“ ‘Kay then, I’ll have a go,” he offered, “Kamenashi-senpai,” he leaned forward, grinning wide, “truth or dare?”
“You look like you want me to do a dare.”
“Dare it is then,” the teenager agreed.
Kazuya glanced at him from over the top of his magazine, “let’s hear it then.”

The kid cocked his brow, “I dare you,” he paused for dramatic effect, “to call Ossan and get us an extra week of vacation.”
“Impossible,” Kazuya retorted, picking up his phone all the same.
“But?” the guy eyed him expectantly while his younger counterparts stared up at him with starry eyes and overwhelming admiration.

“But let’s try anyway,” Kazuya shrugged, dialing up their boss. “Why me?” He added as the phone rang.
“Golden boy,” the junior caught his eyes, “you’re one of boss’ favorites.”
And Kazuya’s brows rose slightly at that, ego having been stroked in exactly the right way. Jin rolled his eye - “I like you,” his band leader smiled after a second of studying the manipulative smirk on the kid’s face, “Ossan,” he turned his attention back to his call while the junior across from him played at primping and preening, basking in the compliment he’d just received.

“What?” Faux innocence emanated from him as he caught a stray curl of hair and twirled it around his finger, “no, I just… wanted… I don’t know, Ossan – I’m really very stressed out – what?” Jin and Tatsuya shared a look over Kazuya’s head, “from everything! I feel like I don’t have enough time to set up for our comeback concert, and the police still refuse to work with us – so I have no idea what to do about security, and…,” he paused to breathe in deep while Tatsuya reached over to snatch the phone from him and place it on the table beside them, turning on the speaker.

Immediately, everyone crowded in.

“…I-If you just give me a little more vacation time, I can-.”
“Kazuya, are you actually going to work during that extra time or not?” Johnny sighed from the other end of the line.
“I will!” The younger exclaimed.

Another sigh.

Everyone leaned in hopefully.
“Look, why don’t I give you extra time here in Tokyo-?” he started.
“No, it has to be here,” the younger insisted.
“Why does it have to be there?”
“Because it’s peaceful here!” the idol replied desperately, “and if I come back to Tokyo I have to start searching for a new manager because Julie left and I’ll have to deal with publicity and advertising all by myself because I won’t have found a manager that early on and-.”

“Kazuya, I can’t just give you extra time without giving everyone else that time as well-.”
“Just a few days-.”
“Meaning I’ll have to offset my pilots’ schedules just for this.”
“We’ll just go to the airport-,” the idol started.

“You’re delusional if you think I’m dealing with anymore of your publicity stunts, boy,” Johnny interrupted irritably, “I’ll send my jet.”
“Meaning…?” Kazuya perked up.
Everyone held their breath for the moment Johnny stayed thoughtfully silent. “How long?” he prompted.
“A week.”


Part 6
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