Pairing(s): Akame (main), Pikame (NC17), Ryoda (minor), Yunjae (minor).
Genre: romance, smut, mafia/ murder, action
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Summary: K hates A and A hates K. That much they've made publicly clear since KAT-TUN disbanded in 2012. Facts have it that they can't stand each other in the same room, much less the same country and that they yell curses to each other in their solo concerts and through paparazzi videos. No one really understands the reason behind the entire deal, T-TUN themselves don't quite get their problem either - so they decide to stay out of it for their own good but end up wound right in the middle of the entire thing when Johnny demands that they have their reunion four years later. Except, how is it supposed to be called a reunion when he two leaders of KAT-TUN can barely stand looking at each other?
“It’d be a nice getaway-.”
“DON’T ADMIRE IT – ah,” Yamapi tilted his head when the younger pointed to the shower curtains, “actually those are nice. My sister likes that kind of stuff - where would you get something like that-? NO.” He turned back, brow ticking, “don’t distract me, idiot – what’re we going to do about this?” He flung his arms out to the entirety of the cabin – specifically the bathroom they’d been huddled in for the last twenty minutes, “we weren’t here last night, why are we here now?!”
“We’ve been over this,” the younger groaned rubbing his ear irritably as he winced, “the hunter drugged us before taking down the net and bringing us here-.”
“That was rhetorical,” the elder whacked him over the head before he could get any further. “Ugh,” he moaned as he turned away and started stalking across the tiny space of the bathroom, “Jin’s going to freak out when he wakes up – how’re we going to explain this to him-?” – Kazuya ignored the rest of it to give the place a once-over again.
From what they’d gathered after having woken up in a stranger’s bed and gone snooping around the place, it seemed they were in the guest room of a log cabin of sorts in the forest. The place - or at least the room - appeared to belong to a woman as evidenced by the colorless lace trim of the blankets, pillow cases and window curtains; the gentle green hues that matched with a natural sort of charm with the rustic wooden floor and furniture; and the picture mounted atop the fireplace mantle, out of which a woman dressed in a traditional kimono and a man garbed likewise, in a yukata, smiled, arm-in-arm.
‘Fake?’ He’d prompted Yamapi a few minutes into nosing around when he’d spotted that.
‘Def.’ The elder had returned with a singular nod before they’d retreated to the sanctuary of the room’s bathroom where they’d proceeded to turn on all water faucets to mask over any conversations they intended to have there; it was a precaution against eavesdroppers (which wasn’t 100% effective because Yamapi was hissing to himself too loudly anyway, the dumbass).
“Pi,” Kazuya wrinkled his nose as he turned back, “if you’re not going to whisper, at least turn off the faucets-.”
“How’re we going to explain this to Jin?!”
“We’ll tell him the truth!” Kazuya smacked the elder in the forehead with one hand, turning the sink faucet off with the other, “we need to tell him about what’s going on with us anyway – might as well start with this-…,” he trailed off with a frown when the prominent creak of a door rattled out over what he'd been saying.
Eyes flicking to the bathroom entrance behind Yamapi, just as the elder turned to check as well, they jumped when they realized it was still locked shut.
“Someone’s here-,” Kazuya whispered immediately just as the latter bolted for the bathroom door and flung it open; more or less raving and ready to pounce on whoever had just entered the room outside.
They tore out of the bathroom just in time to spot a middle-aged woman, carrying a tray of what seemed to be an assortment of snacks and tea, approaching the bed Jin was still peacefully asleep on.
“Tsk!” Yamapi was on that bed in under a second, crouching over his best friend protectively and glaring blackly at the woman. “Back off,” he growled low and feral as Kazuya, who’d moved just as quickly as he had, slammed a hand into the woman’s neck and hinted on squeezing as he too, snarled warningly, “the fuck are you? Who sent you? Whose orders are you working on? The mafia’s? The government’s? Which one? Which country?! How’d you get us out of the net-? Is that man in the picture working with you-?!”
The woman in front of him trembled violently as she cried once more, “I-I’m sorry!” And promptly dropped her tray, struggling to duck away from the idol as she flung her arms up in an attempt to shield herself despite the fact that she was already caught at the neck. “I-I woke this morning," she started while the younger mumbled, "... hah?"
"-And found you three lying in my garden, I swear-!” She cowered, “please don’t hurt me –,” Kazuya frowned, head turning only slightly as he cast a quick glance at Yamapi who continued sizing up the woman suspiciously, “- I was only trying to help you – please-! I’m sorry! Please don't hurt me-!”
The silence that immediately followed this panicked outburst settled into the atmosphere as something heavy and thick; suffocating and riddled with tension. Kazuya’s scowl deepened as the weight of it bore down on all of them. After studying the woman for another few minutes with a face set between a glower and pout, he hissed to himself when he couldn’t find whatever it was he was looking for, ”tsk!” and muttered, “can’t tell…”
“What-?” Yamapi started after a second. And he turned back to him with a resigned sigh before he could finish, “I can’t tell,” he repeated louder, “I can’t tell if she’s lying or not-.”
“Kill her,” the elder snapped back the obvious alternative while the lady gasped despairingly, “we don’t have the luxury of finding out.”
“What if she’s not the mafia?”
“What if she is?” Yamapi wrinkled his nose, “what’re you doing? Finish it off already, we don’t have time for this-.”
"We'll get in trouble for spilling foreign blood on Japanese soil if she's working for a different government-."
"Does she or does she not look like she's fucking Japanese, Kazuya." Yamapi snapped back impatiently, "she's clearly Okinawan, Jesus fucking Christ - hurry up already."
Kazuya bit lip, rubbing it nervously between his pearly whites as he eyed the agitated man for another second before he turned back. “Do yourself a favor and just tell us,” he prompted again as he cocked his head expectantly, “who do work for? A mafia or a government?” The woman just shook her head frantically, “assassin or agent? Come on,” the idol frowned, “just tell us already, it’ll be easier on everyone here –," he flung an arm out, gesturing to them all, "I’ll even let you go-.”
“Kazu,” Yamapi snarled.
“I don’t work for anyone-!” The lady choked at the same time under his slowly tightening grip.
“How can I be sure of that?” Kazuya retorted relentlessly, ignoring the elder.
“You can’t!” She gasped, “but I’m telling you the truth! I found you three lying in my garden – look!” She threw her hand out into the air to point at one of the nearby windows, “that patch of morning glories! They’re crushed! I found you three lying there this morning-!”
“What – you’re saying you just happened to wake up and we just happened to be lying there?” Kazuya wrinkled his nose, “you didn’t hear anything else? No car? Truck? Helicopter?” He snapped, “we’re not exactly children, no one could’ve moved all three of us by hand-.”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” the lady shook her frantically, “I only woke up to find you three lying there – something might’ve woken me up, but I don’t know what it could’ve been! Please believe me! I have no reason to lie-! I’m just a humble widow-,” Kazuya blinked, “-living out here by my lonesome! If it’s money-!”
“It’s not,” The idol rolled his eyes, glancing transiently at the garden she’d pointed out earlier before sighing heavily when he noted the crushed flowers the lady had been mourning over. Licking his teeth, he ran over his thoughts once more before making up his mind a moment later and pulling away his hand from her neck as he turned back.
“Kazuya-!” Yamapi yelped, “she might be-!”
“Look,” the younger paid him no heed once more, “we need to get back into town, how would we do that? Do you have a car?”
“I-I don’t.” The lady swallowed, inching away from him carefully as he shielded her neck protectively, “but,” she cleared her throat, “my… my children - they’re coming up to see me tomorrow morning, you can leave with them.”
“Hn,” the younger nodded, glancing back out the window and tilting his head to look around at the scenery outside, “we’ll be intruding until then,” he murmured quietly as he made note of what little he could see of their surroundings, “please,” he added, casting the woman a warning glance, “stay out of our hair until then. Likewise, we’ll stay out of yours. He-,” he thumbed over his shoulder to where his fellow Johnny sat, scowling high hell and then some into the woman like she’d done something to deserve hate worthy of a demon, “will kill you if you don’t. Don’t test him, he’s impatient and he’s been trained as a mercenary.” And while he turned away to get back onto the bed in front of Yamapi the woman nodded furiously, hurrying to rush out and slam the door shut once more.
“What was that?!” Yamapi immediately hissed the minute the doorframe clattered with the force of her panic, “she could just be a better liar than you, for all we know! What’re we going to do if she just up and kills us in the middle of the night?!”
“If she hasn’t killed us yet, she won’t start now,” Kazuya retorted, glancing over his bandmate as he added, “besides, if her children-.”
“If she even has any!”
“-Come up here,” Kazuya pointed at the bed as he moved to sit closer to Jin, “and find their mother dead with three random guys shacking up in her house, I doubt they’d be willing to give us a ride back to Tokoro’s. Also, how’re you going to explain our dead savior to Jin?” He glanced up at Yamapi who scowled sourly, “we already have to explain this bullshit to him," Kazuya gestured to the room they were in, "and you have a bad enough record with him as it already is, don't make it any worse - Yamapi," he insisted, when the latter started rolling his eyes and mumbling. "It’s okay,” he reassured him quietly, “we’ve got this under control. You have your knives, I have mine – she hasn’t stripped us of our weapons yet – we’re okay. We can still handle this without killing anyone – we’re okay.” He insisted a third time, “besides, we’ve scared the woman enough,” he added quietly after letting that sink in for a moment, “if she’s a civilian, she’ll do as she’s told. If she’s not, she’ll be on her guard: win-win situation either way.”
“Tsk.” Pi snapped back, “you’re going to regret this when we’re all dead tomorrow,” he grumbled insistently – letting it go all the same a moment later, having had his fill of being bitter and fussy as he turned back to his sleeping best friend. “Why isn’t this idiot up yet?” He grumbled, shoving the man in the side, “we made enough noise to wake God up, were the sleeping drugs that potent?”
“We’ve probably just built up a tolerance to it,” Kazuya shrugged as he turned back down as well, “Jin's not exactly a ZzzQuil kind of guy."
Yamapi snorted, shaking his head as he tutted, “you can get addicted to sleeping pills, you know?” He sighed as he turned back up, mellowing out in the slightest, “the kind you get is strong, you really shouldn’t down them like Tylenol, you’ll die of overdose someday while I’ll be saying I told you so.”
“At least I’ll die getting overworked,” the younger shrugged as he glanced around, trying to get an idea of their location from what he could see through the windows – something a little more substantial than further away from Tokoro’s. “Maybe,” he added as he turned the other way and glanced out through another window, staring at their supposed savior’s garden again, “Ossan,” he continued, “will take a hint and start giving everyone more vacation time if I do end up dying from a ZzzQuil overdose.”
“Such a hero,” Yamapi drawled, losing the tension in his shoulders as he scanned the room they were in as well. Like Kazuya, he was looking for things that seemed the slightest bit out of place, little shadowy places that could potentially hide even smaller recording cameras – or worse – traps. He leaned back against the headboard beside Jin with a weary sigh as he did. “We can’t let him eat or drink anything she gives us,” he muttered offhandedly after a moment of staring vacantly at the tray the lady had dropped on the floor earlier, “if she isn’t a civilian, she might be drugging the stuff.”
“Agreed, we can’t risk anything like that,” Kazuya nodded, turning back to glance at the shattered teapot on the floor.
“Hmhn~,” the latter hummed back for the sake of staving off a tense silence. “So?” He added as well, for the same purpose, when Kazuya turned back.
“What?” The younger cocked a brow
“So?” Yamapi gestured dramatically down at his best friend with his eyes, and waited a moment for Kazuya’s face to screw up in understanding. “How’re we going to explain 2012 to him?” He asked what Kazuya already knew he’d been asking in his head. “We can’t tell him about why you were…,” Yamapi waved a hand at him, letting it do the talking for him, “… the auction,” he mumbled vaguely, “… like what they did to you specifically and all-.”
“Yeah, but everything else is fair game,” the younger continued for him before the man could muddle himself up any further. “Well,” he tilted his head, thoughtfully tugging at a lock of hair as he let his gaze wander, “…yeah,” he shrugged a moment later, seemingly rejecting whatever train of thought he’d just been about to utter. “Everything but me and the identities of the Locks and Seals.”
He glanced up across at the elder a moment later. “If you explain the War and Peace Keys to him, I’ll explain the economic-political side of the auction,” he haggled.
“Uggggghhhh,” Yamapi groaned exaggeratedly, dropping his head back so that it thumped loudly into the wooden bedframe behind him, “dude that talk is detailed as shit.”
“Would you rather do the politics?” Kazuya made a face back, “besides, I already started explaining my auction from the economical angle, might as well finish it.”
“Really?” Yamapi glanced back, seemingly impressed, “you got that far without pissing Tatsuya off? Props to you, daredevil.”
And the younger shrugged, looking down at his hands. “Our Connector was going out,” he said into his chest, “I figured, if it’d get him to shut up for a while, I could give him that much at least.”
“Bad boy~,” the latter immediately chided despite the smirk rising to his face, “what’d you say?”
“Nothing really,” Kazuya shrugged, “the mafia had money, the government had me. The mafia wanted me, the government wanted money. So they traded, end of story.”
“He actually bought that?”
“Not really,” the younger rolled his eyes, “I didn’t really give him any alternatives though – kind of just left him hanging. Any more than that and Tatsuya would’ve had my head.”
Yamapi huffed, copping to a dumb grin as he barked a laugh. “Tatsuya’s a better delinquent than actual delinquents, Jesus – he’d survive in Ishiyama just fine, become a boss even,” he chuckled as he curled into himself, “how did Ossan ever force him into being the cute one in KAT-TUN?”
“Said he’d put him in News with Nishikido if he didn’t,” Kazuya grinned up at the elder while Yamapi’s jaw dropped in mock horror. “Oh my God, such a shithead,” he wheezed as he doubled up into himself, laughing harder.
“That being said,” Kazuya bit his lip as he glanced back down into his lap, like he was afraid of smiling any wider, “the cute thing didn’t last very long did it?”
“I kid you not, Ryo literally left the rehearsal gym while we were watching one of your 4nin concerts and Tatsuya came out with that short, blonde updo.”
“Stop,” Kazuya huffed amusedly, “why? Was he mourning the death of the old Tat-chan?”
“That or to beat off,” Yamapi shrugged casually, laughing as Kazuya promptly launched an array of kicks and punches at him yelling ‘ew’ and ‘TMI’ the entire time.
Jin got up sometime in the middle of it – specifically when Yamapi had just managed to lock down one of Kazuya’s squirming legs under his own and was currently working on capturing one of his wrists without getting himself a black eye.
He groaned irritably when he realized what he’d just woken up to, grumbling “why’re you two clowns always up before I am…?” As he turned away from said clowns moodily. It struck him that, as he did, the sheets beneath were a little too scratchy to be his own and, likewise, the blanket on top of him was similarly too strange to be one of his. He glanced down, studying the green sheets under himself for a full minute before sense body-slammed him into next week and he promptly flung himself up against the headboard.
“There it is,” Kazuya huffed as Jin whipped his head around in the sudden horrific realization that this wasn’t right.
“WHERE-?!” He demanded, glancing around frantically before looking at the two beside him and straight up demanding, “am I hallucinating? We were in the forest yesterday weren’t we-?” He seemed to ask that to himself before snapping his head back up again to glare at the other two idols, “did you fuckers finally drive me NUTS?!” He gasped, making to scramble away from them, “ARE WE DEAD – DID WE DIE IN THAT FUCKING NET-?! IS THIS HELL?!” He whipped his head around again as he tried to take in everything at one, “this is hell, isn’t it - YOU TWO WOULDN’T BE HERE IF THIS WAS HEAVEN-!”
“Rude!” Kazuya immediately sniffed while Yamapi hurried to settle Jin down.
“That lady saved us apparently,” he informed him ten minutes of yelling and a bruised cheek later, while pointing to the picture above the fireplace.
“ ‘Apparently’?” Jin parroted back, staring suspiciously at the photo.
“Personally,” Yamapi thumped a hand into his chest self-importantly, “I think she’s the person who followed us into the forest from the cove and set up that trap we got caught in, as ruse to get us here,” he pointed to the bed. “But he-,” he stuck his thumb out to their right, where Kazuya now sat, curled up with a pillow against the headboard, “thinks she’s not a fucking psychopath and that we’re actually not going to be dead by tomorrow, so yeah.”
“He,” Kazuya snapped back before Jin could start freaking out again, “just thinks it’s kind of weird that he’s stuck in the middle of nowhere in a nice ass cabin with a nice ass lady, and that there’s no reason to get needlessly violent with our nice ass savior. But hey, to each his own.”
“Shaddup,” Yamapi wrinkled his nose at him, “stop being fancy with words, you’re-,” Kazuya literally kicked him in the head for that, excusing himself in declaring that Yamapi would probably be able to think clearer now that his brain was put back into place.
Jin despaired wordlessly as they devolved into a fight involving pillows and a blanket this time.
Despite the fact that he more or less understood the situation they were currently in now – the fact that, despite being picked up by some random woman, they were still probably better off than they’d been trekking through an unknown forest – he was unsure as to how he was expected to act. Yamapi and Kazuya were being idiots – excessively so. And on some level, Jin could appreciate that they were making light of their situation so as to not stress him out – but the fact that they were still wandering in the middle of nowhere, far from Tokoro’s, and still possibly at the mercy of some Mafioso psychopath who had the patience to track them into the forest and not kill them for whatever psychopathic agenda they had planned, was freaking him out.
Aside from most of his childhood which he'd more or less completely forgotten, his kidnapping and the bombing at Kazuya’s studio, he was still fairly new to this world of general what the fuck. Despite what little more he knew – information he’d gathered from Suzuha and badgered out of Kazuya and various other poor people – he essentially knew nothing all. So, safe to say, Jin was not handling any of this well.
His best friend and ex-best friend were still fighting when he glanced back up, coming out of his muddled thoughts a while later. Not as violently though – seemingly exhausted as they grumbled at each other like a pair of unhappy old men. From what it seemed, judging from the back-and-forth between the two, they seemed to be arguing about doing something, a task of some sort that required turns. Neither of them seemed to want to go first, though.
Jin’s brow twitched.
“Ladies first,” Yamapi was saying as he kicked Kazuya lightly in the thigh.
“Age before beauty,” Kazuya kicked him back harder than he needed to.
“Tsk,” the elder sniffed irritably.
And Kazuya wrinkled his nose back immediately, “the auction won’t make sense without the War Key spiel, dumbass. Go first, will you?”
“Wait, what?” Jin perked up instantly, while Yamapi snapped back something about stage fright and procrastination. “WHAT’RE YOU TALKING ABOUT, IDIOTS.” He barked before they could lunge at each other once more, “also STOP fucking fighting, you’re worse that children okay. Lay off, take this seriously.”
“We are,” Yamapi started pouting while Kazuya ignored him.
He tapped at his bandaged forearm instead. “You know how our pain-pleasure connection thing went out yesterday?”
Jin nodded slowly, unsure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Yeah, about that,” the younger looked away as he tugged on a curl of auburn self-consciously, while Jin noted that he was starting to develop a new nervous tick. “Now that it’s gone out,” Kazuya shrugged, “we’re allowed to tell you about what happened in 2012,” he revealed just a bit too casually, “Tatsuya said we could – you know? He glanced at his bandmate, “before you went too crazy?”
The latter blinked. That the silence between them stretched for about two minutes spoke to his pronounced disbelief in the fact of the matter because - “wait, what.”
“2012,” Yamapi answered this time, cocking his head as he leaned in, “you’ve probably been hearing it everywhere – but no one’s willing to tell you about it?”
Jin just gaped, flabbergasted while the younger paused to hitch a brow -, “you want to know what happened or not-?”
“Obviously!” Jin damn near choked as he leaned in so far forward he nearly lost his balance and fell on his face, “what kind of question is that-?!”
“Alright, alright,” Pi pushed him back by shoulder, leaning away
“You’ve already spoken to that crazy rat, Suzuha, yes?” He added as he waved his hand around in the air vaguely, while Jin paled, tensing immediately. “I don’t care,” the younger was quick to reassure him with another nonchalant flap of the hand, “but did she say anything about a War Key?”
“ ‘War Key’ ?” Jin repeated back, brow cocking.
“War Key,” Yamapi nodded, “it would’ve been in the context of gathering information, she wouldn’t have known too much about it so she would’ve asked you to give her information about something called the War Key.”
“War Key…,” the elder murmured thoughtfully to himself as he glanced down into the bedsheets underfoot, “War Key, War Key…,” he frowned as cogs turned in his head. “War Key -…,” he abruptly glanced up when whatever he could remember from his meeting with Suzuha resurfaced:
mirthlessly. “Um…,” he glanced away, at a stripper, at the ceiling, at the table to - anything that wasn't - “…Suzu-.”
And the idol stared at her, confused - open-mouthed and lost of words. “...No,” his frown returned after a minute of surprised
And she listened to him. In silence once more. Eyes narrowed once more.
“Yeah-!” He nodded suddenly, “ ‘War Key,’” he reiterated, “she did ask about something like,” he cocked his brow at the latter, “she asked about a ‘Peace Key’ too – something about security seals as well - how’d you know?”
The younger just shrugged in that frustratingly ambiguous way of his. “I’m a genius,” he preened shamelessly while Jin bid him the courtesy of not punching him in the face.
“Whatever,” he brushed it aside instead, focused on the purpose of the conversation at hand rather than his dork of a best friend, “what’s this War Key then?”
“A doomsday device.”
Kazuya cast Yamapi a warning glance. But the latter just ignored him.