Cold Water

Author's Note : This chapter was germinated by the song 'Sugar, We're Going Down' by Fall Out Boy. If you pay enough attention to the story, you'll see some similarities to the lyrics here and there. I recommend you listen to it, as it's fast becoming one of my favorites.

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Renkotsu wasn't sure what he was doing wrong. He hadn't dared to reprimand or speak harshly to Jakotsu for days now, and by now the others were inquiring if he was feeling alright. In fact, he had been bothered by the fluttering feeling in his stomach enough to write his object of affections a thrice-damned love note (anonymously, of course), and then been crushed when Jakotsu couldn't even read it! It had been in the evening when Jakotsu found it, and glanced over it before laughing. He had crumpled it up and tossed it into the fire, grinning at Bankotsu and joking that he found their old grocery list. At the choked sound Renkotsu made, nearly everyone around the fire had looked at him, and he was forced to say a piece of meat got stuck in his throat in order not to act suspicious.

He had said everything Jakotsu had wanted to hear... From him, anyway. Flat on his back, he lay on the grass by the cracked gravesite that his bones, and those of his comrades, had lain for so many years, and he was doing something rather out of the ordinary. Renkotsu was staring up at the sky, watching the clouds. Given a rare moment alone to himself, he became quickly lost in thought. Perhaps Jakotsu had figured out the whole business with himself a long time ago, and counted him as just a notch in the proverbial bedpost. Scowling slightly, Renkotsu turned onto his stomach and hummed a tune to himself. Heartbreak was a frequent line in all those songs, after all...

About half an hour later, he finally got up from his comfortable spot next to his vacant mausoleum and dusted himself, ready to return to their 'base' and discuss their latest attack plan with Bankotsu. The second-in-command was not prepared for what he would find there, though he did know that Jakotsu and Bankotsu had been left alone together, if only for a short while.

The leader of the Shichinin-tai and his third-in-command were reclining on a futon together, engaged in a passionate liplock. Judging by the muffled moans and grunts they were making, the pair seemed to be attempting to swallow one another's tongues. Purring and even giggling on Jakotsu's part, they paused to explore one another's faces with kisses and nips before returning to their previous bout of tongue-wrestling. Renkotsu would have given his very soul to be Bankotsu in that situation, feeling that beautiful friction and tasting Jakotsu's mouth so intimately. As one of the taller boy's hands moved to ghost over the other's thigh delicately, he shook his head and turned away. He dared not watch. The wave of sickly jealousy he felt was eating him away at the very sight, and he didn't know what he would do if he witnessed this entire encounter.

Renkotsu sat down on the step to the old house they had taken as a base, heaving a deep sigh. Every day, every spurning and ignorance, he felt himself sink lower. Even at a second chance with life... Jakotsu wouldn't let him love him. How could he hold his heart so tightly and not see what was happening to him!? A soft growl rasped from his throat, and he placed his head in his hands. It just couldn't go on like this, could it?
"It has to stop..."

The evening meal had been the usual, except that Renkotsu had unfortunately been robbed of the power of speech. As the other remaining three talked and even joked among themselves (Ginkotsu no longer really counted, as he was only capable of saying 'Gesh' now that he was a tank), he sat there in silence, chewing on part of his share of dinner, which happened to be fish. He didn't even like fish very much, but everything he ate had a bland, tasteless feel in his mouth now. It could be burnt to cinders, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't notice. All Renkotsu really saw was Jakotsu, red lips parted as he laughed, slender hands gesturing to something while he spoke. He didn't even notice what he was even doing until he dropped a piece of hot fish in his lap and ended up hopskipping around the fire in agony to the uproarious laughs of his comrades.

It was the dead of night when he reached his decision. The fire-user had been lying awake on his futon, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling, wondering what exactly he could do about this unfortunate situation. He sat up abruptly, shoving aside his blankets and pulling on his clothes again before going to sort through his weaponry, which was piled in a corner of his bedchamber. Renkotsu sorted through a cannon and various explosives before pulling up a long-barrelled rifle from the heap. The breath caught in his throat for a moment, but he shook it off as he checked to see if it was loaded. It was.

He crept into Jakotsu's room as carefully as he could. They were fortunate enough to have enough space to get their own bedchambers, and in this case it was an extra amount of luck. If Jakotsu had been bunking with someone else, this task would be infinitely more difficult. The gun was over one shoulder, a paper lantern in one on his hands as he slid open the ragged shoji and crouched beside his object of lust and affection. Jakotsu looked so innocent when asleep... The hairpin had been removed, allowing his long hair to fall about in a dark green cascade, his eyes shut blissfully and mouth partially open. Renkotsu paused to just watch him breathe, admiring the soft rise and fall, inhale and exhale. Everything was just so perfect... He could never have this, though. It was Bankotsu's, wasn't it? And if Renkotsu was denied... Then no one would have it...

With considerable difficulty, he lit the fuse to the rifle and pressed the cold mouth of the barrel to Jakotsu's temple. His hands were beginning to tremble as he cocked it and pressed one finger against the trigger, and he held his breath just as Jakotsu opened his eyes at the feeling of metal against his smooth skin. There was a very awkward silence for a few moments, and the younger male's gray eyes flickered from the steely gunbarrel to his would-be killer's less-than-steely gaze. Renkotsu, much to his chagrin, found himself frozen in place with an expression of almost stupid shock on his face. He hadn't thought of Jakotsu waking up before he could kill him.

"...Oo-aniki..." The softly reproachful tone nearly undid him, and the fire-user dropped the rifle with a loud clatter and dropped completely to his knees. Sweat was running down his cheeks, and he was breathing a little more shallowly as he groped for the gun again. He paused when he felt a cool, dry hand fold over one of his, which were hot and becoming damp.

"Why, Renkotsu?" Jakotsu sat up and tilted his head to one side, eeriely calm. Renkotsu had expected, in the back of his mind, kicking and screaming and an attempt to fight back. There was none, only serene curiousity. He swallowed audibly, as this was perhaps the last thing he wanted to do. In all seriousness, he had considered taking his secret obsession to his grave for the second time. The next four words were perhaps the hardest he had said or would ever say.

"I love you, Jakotsu." After that, it was incredibly easy to babble on his attempts to win Jakotsu's favor, and acting so standoffish in attempt to not draw attention to his change of heart. Jakotsu listened attentively, and he nodded now and then in sympathy. When he was at last done, Renkotsu took a deep breath and slumped visibly. He had been bottling it all up for ages, even before they had been executed, and it was similar to how one can shake up a bottle of something fizzy, and it bubbles under the surface for only so long before it explodes. The feminine man laid a hand on his teammate's shoulder gingerly, rubbing it slightly as the other took deep breaths to avoid breaking down. No matter what happened, Renkotsu had promised himself he would never cry in front of anyone or anything.

"I understand... I'm sorry, but... Bankotsu and I..." Jakotsu attempted to explain, but Renkotsu turned away, a silent statement of grudging acceptance. He knew what would happen all too well. Those two were lovers after all, and had known each other for so long... He had no right to try and lay any claim. Stifling a disappointed sigh, he looked over the slightly upset Jakotsu before throwing caution to the wind; he leaned in and brushed his lips against Jakotsu's, swiftly and softly. To his delight, though he showed no outward signs of being pleased, the lips beneath his molded into a return kiss for a brief moment before breaking away. The younger male then yawned sleepily and curled up in his blankets again.
"Sleep well, Renkotsu."

[ FIN ]