fic: paper amnesia, 1/? [AU, PoT/DN crossover]

[fromastudio]

paper amnesia, part 1/?
Characters: Yagyuu, Rikkai
Genre: AU, Death Note crossover
Notes: For lawnmower_elf.




part i


The call came at noon.

When it came, Kirihara was lying belly-down on the sofa, reading a hardcover edition of Musashi. I was sipping espresso on the couch. My feet rested on the coffee table.

Yanagi stood up when the phone rang. He folded up today's Asahi Shimbun and placed it on the glass table, next to Kirihara's neglected jasmine tea. Kirihara didn't move except to turn the page, and while I took a drawn-out drag of coffee, Yanagi picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

Kirihara glanced up at Yanagi and then turned on his side to face me, as if the unexpected halt of the ringtone had drawn his attention back to the living world. "That's not very gentlemanly of you, making a guest answer the phone."

I put down my coffee cup, reached for a pack of cigarettes. "I like my guests to feel at home."

"...This is Yanagi Renji speaking. Hiroshi is here, if you'd like to speak to him. Yes."

"Thanks, but I feel at home whenever my risk of getting lung cancer falls below the national average."

"...I see. Is everything all right? No trouble? Yes, yes. I see."

"Call it a hazard of family life." Father has smoked a pack a day - more, on days when he's not working - since before I can remember. Cardiac failure will get him one day, if the carcinogens don't.

"Humph." Kirihara gave me a dissatisfied look, before going back to his reading. I searched for the lighter closest to hand - Yanagi's - and flicked it on.

Kirihara is a strange child. He exudes postmodernity while being attracted to older things. He is filled with dichotomies, improbability, contradiction. I would ask him why he follows us, if he hadn't been doing so forever.

"...certainly. What time would be best? We'll see you there, then."

I lit up the cigarette and breathed nicotine, looking curiously at Yanagi as he hung up.

"That was Seiichi's parents," Yanagi said. "He was admitted to hospital last night."

“What happened?” I asked.

“Again?” Kirihara stared at Yanagi. Kirihara is better at reading Yanagi's expressions than I am.

I swore under my breath, mainly to break the silence. The other two were deathly still, not looking at anything. Yanagi – well, it's hard to tell where Yanagi is looking even when he's staring right at you, but Kirihara's gaze definitely went vacant for a split second. Then his eyes narrowed.

Hard to tell whether he's out of control or simply determined, at times like these. He put down his book and reached for his jumper, which was lying across the armrest.

“Where are you going?” Yanagi held up a hand as if to stop him.

“To see buchou.” He didn't slam the door behind him, but it made a fairly severe thud as it closed.

I wondered aloud whether Kirihara was going to visit Sanada for his own sake, or for Sanada's.

“For Genichirou's, most likely,” said Yanagi. “I cannot imagine Akaya deriving any comfort from Genichirou's reaction.”

“We should visit him soon.” I hate hospitals, but Yukimura was Yanagi's friend. “Tonight?”

“Perhaps tomorrow. I think -- I need some time. To think.”

And Yanagi was my closest friend despite the fact that I was not his. I took another breath of cigarette. “Would you like to stay over tonight? There's no class in the morning.”

He probably wanted to be alone, but we both knew that it was unhealthy for him.

“I would,” he said, attempting a ghost of a smile – and a ghost of a Yanagi-smile isn't much by any standard. “Thank you.”


part ii.