whew

It was bound to happen eventually, not that Dobu expected it to be for right now. But whatever he had gotten involved in this time had been much larger than their usual, internal disputes, so it was inevitable.

Dobu was tough, he'd survive it.

The older Daimon however, had a real shit time of it. He was a cop and he was small, and in prison, that was the worst combination possible. Thankfully his sentence wasn't too long, only 2 years due to the obstruction of justice, and while Dobu had to really watch his back the first few months, Kenshiro was then transferred to a facility with better security.

For the best really, Dobu was getting tired on beating on randos who would look at Kenshiro wrong — you never fucking know. 

Being in jail itself wasn't the worst. Dobu was well-known and strong, he could deal with complications easy, he had been doing that on the street a lot anyways when he went viral online for the shit that he didn’t do. It was time, that was an issue. The time passing was the worst part of it all. It felt like he was wasting his life away. It felt like every day he was spending in the trap, he could've been of use to the Boss.

Not that Dobu could do much about it.

It was also a stroke of bad luck, probably, that Yano ended up at the same prison he did.

They locked eyes one day on the courtyard, Dobu randomly passing by while Yano seemed to be mid-rap, singing over another inmate that Sekiguchi had pinned to the ground, his foot on the guy's neck.

Dobu could see the pause in his flow, before Yano picked it back up again and carried on, turning his gaze to the poor fucker on the floor. Well. Good to know that Yano was throwing his weight around in prison as well. That was how it should go for men like them.

/

Being at the top also did mean that people tried to topple you over constantly. It wasn't a problem usually, but prisoners had nothing but time. Enough time to watch and observe, and pinpoint the smallest weaknesses or openings and then exploit them. Dobu was good at evading all this on the streets. There was nowhere to run in prison, though. Dobu was kind of trapped.

It was way more than an unfair fight when one lax afternoon, 7 guys flanked him in the communal bathrooms, 3 holding shanks, the other four deadset on grabbing onto him. It was probably inmates who were unhappy by how much he had kicked ass protecting Kenshiro in the earlier months of their sentences. Death by shanking was lame as hell though and Dobu refused to go out like that.

He was halfway through breaking an arm, two makeshift shanks stuck in his shoulder, when something bonkers happened. A steel ladle that they use when serving food in the mess hall came hurtling over, smashing a glass mirror nearby.

Dobu was sure he had some glass shards in his hair. 

But everyone scattered, the sound loud enough to get the guards running towards them. Dobu himself ghosted, not wanting to be caught on scene. 

On the way out, a bit hidden away from the commotion, was a familiar head of spiky hair. 

Dobu didn’t properly acknowledge what had happened. But Dobu knew it was Yano, little motherfucker had the brains to pull off something quick and safe. He just never took to building muscle the way Sekiguchi or Dobu did. But Dobu knew. He supposed he owed Yano now. 

Not a difficult thing to do. Yano was a presence now in this prison, even if he wasn't causing as much as a ruckus as he usually would. Dobu would return the favour. 

/

The inside of a prison was much like the city outside, though on a significantly worse scale. Everyone eventually bumped into each other, whether they wanted to or not. Especially for inmates who were booked during a similar timeframe, their labor rosters would coincide more often than most. Prison administration didn’t give too much of a fuck about the daily happenings of an  inmate. 

So it made sense that Dobu and Yano’s schedules would overlap, somehow. 

Yano was on his second to last week of serving food in the mess hall when Dobu started the job. Which also clued Dobu in on how Yano could have gotten access to the cooking utensil he so graciously saved Dobu’s ass with. Dobu hadn’t forgotten. 

It was almost like it was orchestrated specifically that both Dobu and Yano were on mess hall duty, prepping the food and bagging them, serving when necessary. 

They haven't said anything to each other before today. Perfect strangers, who never spared each other any more than a glance. But Dobu was kind of over that. 

It had been long enough right? If Yano gave him the cold shoulder anyway, then, fuck him. Dobu could try. 

So while he was busy scooping rice into individual bowls; like, 500 times; he spoke up. 

"Hey, Yano. Where’d Sekiguchi go?"

They weren’t really facing each other, but he could sense the pause in Yano's motion. He had been bagging food. 

"You haven’t heard? Solitary, for stomping on some turds. My bad though. Some of the these inmates needed discipline, You know the kind of vermin. Got a little too ambitious, Sekiguchi got a bit too vicious."

"Damn. You know how long for?"

A small shrug, "No. The big guy could tough it out though. But that's the problem with being a duo, everyone catches on fast that you only need to take one person out of the equation. Only uno. Then I'm in trouble. On the double. But. I digress. Not worth the stress."

Dobu hummed, "Makes sense why you saved my ass alone that day. Thanks, by the way."

Yano’s voice went quiet, the tone was almost nostalgic, "No worries. Don’t mention it."

Well. Now that they were on this track, anyway. Dobu hadn’t had a proper conversation with someone worthwhile in a minute, "So. Ten years for aiding and abetting, huh Yano?"

Yano glanced at him, body shifting while still dutifully bagging the wet slop that resembled apple curry, "Yeah, a decade. The whole brigade. Did you get eight for your long list of charges, mate?"

Dobu chuckled, "You bet. They did only get me for the shit I actually did, though."

It wasn’t something he wanted to bring up, but Dobu had decided he wanted to keep this going. And he was curious. So he asked anyway, "So you did all that to that girl’s corpse?"

He could see Yano pause, for longer this time, "Yes. Though Sekiguchi, great guy, handled most of the mess. Bless. It was…"

He trailed off, and Dobu turned to look at him.

"How are you holding up, then? You really hate that kind of thing." 

Yano looked at him directly now, surprised. Same old Yano. Prison wasn't rife with hair products but somehow he still kind of maintained the spiky do. Dobu needed to ask him for his source.

Yano caught himself soon after, turning back to the food.

"Not well, really, truly, it was a homicide and I've never seen someone whacked IRL, jokes aside. It was..." he gripped the ladle in his hand, "Fucked. I still have nightmares about it."

He resumed his work, "Dobu-san, you remember?"

Dobu did too, rolling his shoulder, "Yeah. That one time, Boss got news of the rival gang that got jumped by another. Some guy croaked from getting shot nearby our turf, and you turned pale, like a ghost. Like all the blood drained out of you. I thought you were going to pass out back then."

Yano sighed, "Cringe ass memory, you don't have to tell me." 

He put aside all the bagged curries, and moved to start destemming grapes off their bunches, "Speaking about guns, didn't you get nailed in the gut, Dobu-san?"

Dobu made a face, but it wasn't a secret, anyways, "Yeah. Some psycho who was trying to get to my taxi driver," He dropped the soup spoon he was stirring with and pulled his shirt up, revealing the scarred hole in his left abdomen, "Hurt like a bitch." 

Yano looked over, scrunched his nose in a cringe, "Ow. Man, how. Heard you were in the hospital for a bit, too. Well, at least you had your eye candy. Woo. Pretty nurses on the clock, that must rock." 

"I don't have a fetish, I'm telling you," Dobu shook his head, but his thoughts were now on that time that he was recovering, in pain, and reeling. Contemplating, "Not this time. I don't know. There was a lot to think about. And I guess now we're both in this dump." 

Yano sighed, lifting a grape to peer at its skin, then put it away, "I know. Didn’t think it was going to happen to me, for serious. Guess I was Icarus. Too close to the sun, didn’t even get to run."

"I’ve always thought it’d happen to me sometime, I've done too much shit. Call it a rite of passage, to serve time. Builds character." 

Yano turned to him, and he looked genuinely quite unimpressed, "That’s you, Dobu-san. Of course you’d think that. We are not the same." 

But he smirked, after, something softening in his features, "But I guess we’re both here now." 

It felt like acceptance. 

/

In a way, Dobu was the one watching Yano's back now, just while Sekiguchi was indisposed. It wasn't a bad gig. Not after their little conversation. Dobu knew that in his own way, Yano was watching his back to.

Not they needed to. But maybe there was something about having a shared past in the slammer like this.

It was lonely in prison. Dobu had always been kind of solitary but it was very different when it was by choice, and now they were forced to be on their own for extended periods of time. One would need a friend in a place like this. And if Dobu and Yano somehow became closer again, the loneliness was probably to blame. 

But it wasn't really like before. Before they parted ways. That was something that they hadn't addressed yet, a time long past.

Dobu could still see traces of it when they spoke, though. He'd see it in the way Yano looked at him, and the way Dobu would laugh at the way Yano reacted to the shit Dobu said. It made him nostalgic.

When Sekiguchi returned; Dobu spotting him and Yano in the courtyard, not torturing some fuck this time, just talking and catching up probably; Dobu had thought that maybe things would return to their early prison days. Yano didn't really need back up anymore.

But then Sekiguchi looked up and caught Dobu's eye, and raised his hand in greeting. Yano turned to look, and lifted his chin to acknowledge Dobu.

Well. Guess not.

Dobu greeted them in turn, walking off, and doesn't think about the relief he felt.

/

Almost felt like a fucking scam, how nice Yano was to him after that initial conversation. Felt like the older days, but very different, actually. Yano was a sweet, innocent mafia to be, back then. He was unsure and nervous and he wasn't rapping before. To be fair, after multiple shifts and conversations together, Yano had dropped his act too; difficult to spit rhymes when a man did something utterly mundane, and while speaking to his formerly estranged Yakuza senior. Nothing inspiring there. This Yano was a grown-up, talking to Dobu like they were on equal standing. It was kind of refreshing, actually. 

But then it got Dobu thinking.

Another mess hall shift, the both of them preparing food.

"Hey, Yano, tell me something."

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you fuck with me a lot, before?"

Well, it was probably kind of vague and a sensitive line of questioning, but — Dobu wanted to know. It wasn't something he had asked before.

Yano glanced at him, but didn't respond for a while, "Like, healthy rivalry? I don't know if I 'd call it fucking with you, Dobu-san."

Bullshit.

"Bullshit," he said out loud, leaning into Yano's space, "You hated me. Actively tried to ruin my operations. Like sure, we don't have that much love for each other, but you were kind of a dick, Yano."

This time, Yano did turn to him. His expression was unreadable.

"Dobu-san. Let's talk about it. What do you think happened, honestly?"

It was about time, Dobu guessed.

Sure. He had his theories.

"Okay. Let's talk. It did feel like you wanted more that I could give you, back then. You wanted more from me, wanted change. And I've told you a million times, I couldn't change and I won't. Fair, right? So I made it so that you can move up on your own, like things should be. Then you can go off and do whatever you liked. I won't change, but you can. I still don't get why you got so fucking pissed at me for that."

Something was changing in Yano's face. Dobu realized he had never done this before with Yano. Or anyone, for the matter. Initiated a full confrontation. Prison really put him in the strangest situations.

Yano folded his arms. "Yeah. You were frustrating. You had potential but you squandered it."

"Hah?"

Yano took in a breath, "See, you say you want to pay the boss back but you lazed around the entire time I was with you. You were strong, sure, and the last big thing you did was to help me move up. What did you do to move up? Huh? No ambition. No drive. Pissed me the fuck off."

Dobu could get angry. But he kind of already knew. Still, though.

"Kid. What do you think you know?"

"Well I don't know. I didn't know. But you were the one who said we were family. You took care of me up until you didn't. I loved you. But you were a goddamn mess."

There it was. Also, deja vu, he had said the exact same thing to Yano before, way back when.

Yano seemed drained. He probably had been holding that in for a long time.

It wasn't as if Dobu was completely oblivious. But he already knew the kid being so attached to him was a bad idea. That was why he didn't think it was wise for him to take Yano under his wing in the first place; he had told Boss Kuroda as much. It was never meant to last.

"Alright. But consider this, Yano. The fuck am I going to do if I finish paying off the boss? Work? Be a civil servant? Fucking what? I've signed my life away to him, I'm in no hurry to end it. My entire life is his, do you get that?"

Yano didn't seem to know. He looked a little stunned.

"Plus, like, you moved up. And you could've just been done with it, but it was like you went out of your way to antagonize me. Why?"

Yano was quiet for a while. His voice was quiet too, when he spoke.

"I didn't know you didn't intend on leaving. Could've told me earlier. I'd understand."

But the hurt on his face was real, after, "But when I left, you really didn't ever try to check in on me huh? Like you never give a shit. D'you know how much that sucked, Dobu-san. You're an asshole. And this is coming from someone who was so fucking soft, you had to take care of everyone. You got yourself into so much shit because you apparently cared. But not me? I wanted to punish you. I still do."

Dobu was kind of speechless. And annoyed. What a brat.

"Yano. You know I don't... Were you in love with me or something?"

Oh, Yano was furious now.

"Yeah, and so what, motherfucker. You made it clear you were not interested. But you were it, Dobu-san. After the boss, the first person I ever really gave a shit about was you. You got me my first fucking suit. I hold you responsible for everything. All of it. And you're the kind of dick who'd never take responsibility. So fuck off."

Man. Like he knew Yano was some kind of wrong. But not to this extent.

Dobu couldn't not get his licks in.

"Okay. Sure. But you're also a brat, huh Yano. You're not cute at all. All these years fucking with me because you wanted my attention? Little shit. Ought to beat you for that. And asshole, I still wear that fucking chain you gave me. Fucker. Of course I care. But it's gross for an old Yakuza like me to be sentimental about this kind of thing!"

Yano seemed stricken. His face turned red.

"Oh my god. You're infuriating. I fucking hate you. I don't know how I was so affected by you. Fucker. Toxic manipulator. I wish we never met. What do you mean you still wear that chain?!"

This was turning into a scene. Yano Iooked like he was having aneurysm. Dobu was reminded by how ridiculously flustered his little shadow was back then, in the early days, whenever Dobu caught him off guard like this. Yano was such a brat. Sometimes he could get really cute.

See, now, he never specifically thought of Yano this way, but he also missed the little shit. Maybe it was nostalgia, maybe it was just prison, that was making him miss better times.

Ah. What other choice could he make that was worse than this one?

"So was all that nonsense with me and the boss really just you trying to get my attention? You wanted to rile me up? Well congrats. What now?"

Yano's eyes narrowed, and Dobu had only seen this look once before on him, all those years ago, at the very end of their working relationship. It pressed against something sore, and Dobu pushed back, kept it going.

"Hey. I get it. Get your money, pay the boss. Move on. Live your life. Leave me behind," He smiled, wry, "Just don't forget us, yeah?"

"Dobu-san, you're the worst. You're the absolute worst."

Yano was hissing, true fury lacing his words, "You said all that shit about carving yourself into memory as your legacy. Liar. As if you give a shit if I forget you. As if that affects you in any way. And spoken like a true fucking wimp. "

"Yano, you—"

"You got so soft. You got me so attached to you then you told me to go do things on my own like you were trying to fucking get rid of me all along. You talk about pride, but you fucking bend over backwards to do random shit for random people and look like a goddamn fool after," Yano made a face, "Bullshit. You're so fucking full of it, Dobu-san."

His first instinct was to lash out, get mad, but fuck. Yano was too much. And now Yano was moving.

"Yano. What are you doing, kid." 

Yano grabbed him by the collar and Dobu let him. They both knew they were cameras around; if things escalated, they'd both be sent into solitary. But Yano wasn't jerking him forward, he just pulled, strong and steady, eyes on Dobu's. 

"Dobu-san. I think it's high time you be real with me."

"Yeah? What is it that you want from me, Yano? Use your words. You're good at that now, aren't you?"

He bared his teeth, a glint in his eyes, "Fuck you, fine, just stop the whine, you kill me, Dobu-san, you infuriate. I can't help but hate, you need to upgrade, for God's sake. Where's your fire? Your desire? You want to be stagnant like a ditch, gross, don't you want to change your pitch? You fuck me up. You can't keep up. Can't you keep up?"

Yano's mouth crashed onto his, the impact rattling his fucking skull, all pain and aggression. Oh. Well. It wasn't like Dobu had absolutely no idea. This kind of frustration from Yano was always going to turn into sex or murder, and Dobu wasn't dead yet. But Dobu didn't think anything was actually gonna come out of it after they split, much less in prison. But maybe it was because they were in prison. Where else was there for them to go? 

Fuck it. 

He pushed back, licking into Yano's mouth, and the noise the kid made was desperate. Almost broke Dobu's heart. Dobu bit at his lip, and pulled it back with teeth, savoring the stunned look on Yano's face.

"Do you really think you can handle me, Yano?"

Yano's voice was quiet, his pupils clearly blown from this distance, "Try me."

No true challenge was made because the moment Dobu got a hand up Yano's shirt, there was loud whistling and the guards came to separate them and they both got a long lecture about public indecency. They both received their first warning, and there'd be extra supervision on them for the next couple of weeks, but Dobu wasn't too worried. They had nothing but time in this place. 

/

Yes, they were warned. Not that it meant that the prison administration was going to go to lengths to change their rosters, to rearrange shifts. Dobu and Yano's schedules still overlapped.

Dobu had been waiting for it.

It was laundry duty, and Yano was ironing. Probably not a good idea to get all up in his space when he was holding something that could burn, but Dobu chanced it anyway.

"Hi, kid. You been well?"

Yano put the steaming iron aside, moved the shirt on his board to a wrinkled part, "Yes. And you, Dobu-san?"

"Pretty good. Been thinking about our last talk, is all."

"Have you now?"

Dobu passed by Yano to take his own spot next to him, where clothes were waiting to be folded. His hand barely brushed against Yano's back as he moved. He was reminded of the scars on Yano's back, all those years ago, wondered how they looked now that he was older.

He wondered if Yano ever did use the intel Dobu found on Yano's father, but decided that ultimately he wouldn't ask. Things have fractured between them in ways that he hadn't expected. Whatever was wrong with Yano (and Dobu) ran deep.

Still.

Yano looked at him, and lifted the iron again, "You know, I'll be honest. I still think I should get Sekiguchi to beat your skull in, show you some real pain, for how fucked up you got me after we went our separate ways. Get you in a daze. Show you that memory means shit if you're bleeding out and counting your days."

"Money, Dobu-san. Blood. Power. To be so strong in the world that people cower. You can't get left behind if you're always ahead of the race, number one in the line. So," he tilted the iron towards Dobu, making his point, "In this place, we're at a standstill. Nothing moves in here except time. If you want to rot in memory or whatever the fuck, now is prime."

Yano exhaled, returning to the clothing he was ironing, "But I'll let you do what you want for now. It's a different world in here, play it by ear. I'll get off your case, go save face, be as soft as you can stand, your fucking brand."

Dobu started to work on folding clothes himself, "Alright. Sure. While we're in here. Also by the way, Yano. It's very fucking cool when you spit bars like that. I've been meaning to tell you."

Quiet, for a moment. A glance at Yano was him looking pointedly down at the clothes, his expression something so familiar to Dobu, but one he had not seen in a while.

"Thanks. Good to know. Get on with the show."

Good to know.

"And Dobu-san, for later," Yano said, casually, like it wasn't a thing, "Wanna fuck in the janitor's room after?"

/

It was not meant to last. It was temporary, just while they were in here like Yano said, but Dobu found himself stealing moments with Yano as much as he could, anyway.

It was lonely in prison.

Things were less lonely if you got up to some shit with a fellow inmate, whenever you could.

It only took some some kind of connection and a barter system for things to work, from both Yano and Dobu, but the system was easy to manipulate once they were in the slammer for long enough.

It was enough time in between patrols to be able to spend time together, as often as they could get away with it.

"Dobu-san." Yano gasped, hips pushing right off the wall they were up against, "Oh! Oh, fuck."

Nothing Dobu was particularly familiar with, but sucking cock did not seem inherently complicated. It was the rush of it, and the way Yano was fisting his hair, that made it worthwhile to be doing shit like this in prison.

He hollowed his cheeks and sucked, and Yano groaned like a man dying.

He spat on the floor after; who gave a shit, the inmates cleaning later on can deal with it; and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Yano blinked blearily at him, reminiscent of when he used to shoot up drugs. But he blinked the daze away and his eyes were clear.

Dobu liked it better this way.

"Can't believe you'd do that, Dobu-san. Always thought it would be beneath you."

Dobu huffed a laugh, "So you've thought about me blowing you before?"

Immediately Yano flustered, opened his mouth to probably deny and apologize. Dobu would never know, as he seemed to snap out of it then, and fixed his expression, "Yeah. Dobu-san on his knees, a fucking tease. Wanna see you all choked up on this."

Boldly, he pulled at Dobu's hair again. Dobu hissed at the sharp pressure, the surprise making him laugh at Yano's fucking audacity.

Dobu pushed into the grip and grinned, sharp and heady, because there was something intensely attractive about Yano being this confident. Yano wasn't the quiet kid he was tasked to take care of long ago. They felt like equals.

Well. To some degree.

Dobu stood up, pushing himself into Yano's space, voice low, "If you imagined fucking my face, just say so, Yano," Yano shivered, arching up against Dobu, "Not that I'd let you though."

Yano lifted a leg, pressing it hard in between Dobu's, "Hah. Not yet."

"Dream on, kid. You're gonna return the favour or what?"

Yano reached in between then and slipped his hand down Dobu's pants, fingers wrapping around him, squeezing. Weirdly good, to have Yano up against him like this, sharp gaze on his own while he jacked Dobu off.

"Sorry I'm not a cute nurse, Dobu-san. I'm the inverse. Not one of your honeys, can you even come for me?"

"I'm hard, aren't I?" he had to say, which is still crazy, considering how he was fucking up into Yano's loose fist, unable to look away from Yano's face, "Let's find out."

Yano made a satisfied little hum, and Dobu was reminded of old times. Better times? Maybe. But a time where they were close, and life was simpler, and neither of them were so fucking bitter. Not that they were ever this close. Still. It felt familiar, somehow.

Kissing wasn't familiar with Yano either, but they fell into it. It was more Dobu biting at Yano's mouth and Yano biting right back, shoving his tongue in between Dobu's lips. He dragged his tongue along Dobu's canines so precisely that it cannot be anything but intentional.

"Ngh, fuck," Dobu groaned against Yano's mouth, hips stuttering in its motion, and he shuddered through his orgasm, gripping at the back of Yano's head as if to pull him off. Dobu didn't.

Yano squeezed him once, hard, long enough that Dobu hissed with overstimulation. Yano's hand was messy with cum, and Dobu pulled back only to see Yano licking at it, small, flat tongue swiping over his palm, cleaning himself off.

"That's nasty, man," Dobu scrunched his nose, and Yano scoffed at him.

"And what, wipe it over your clothes instead? You gonna do laundry again, Dobu-san? Shut up."

How could Dobu be bitter, when Yano was grinning like a little devil at him like this? 

Maybe they both were warped by whatever it was had happened between them. Things might just go back to the way it was once they were both outside. But for the time being, Dobu was feeling so, so fond.

"Yano. Get parole and meet me outside after all this, yeah? You can behave, right?"

Yano gave him a look; they were still kinda close, not touching anymore but close enough that Dobu could feel the heat of him from this distance, "There you go telling me what to do again. Such a habit, even back then. Man." He lifted his chin in something like defiance, but Dobu couldn't really tell, "I'll see what I feel like doing. And I'll do what I wanna do, nothing to do with you. Capisce?"

Dobu was starting to learn, as irritating as he found it in the beginning. But defying him seemed important to Yano, so. Sure.

"Gotcha. Whatever you wanna do. I'll be waiting on the outside."

Yano's jaw tightened, some internal struggle, and Dobu had the wildest urge to pat his hair. Like patting an angry porcupine, he was sure to get a handful of thorns.

So he refrained.

There'd be strange fights in the future. There'd be tender moments. There would be shit Dobu would never fucking see coming, but he wasn't going to worry about it now.

Time passed anyway.

/

Yano stepped outside, the sunlight glaring in his eyes. Nothing was too different, except for time.

There was a car waiting for him outside. 

Dobu tilted his sunglasses, his sharp grin catching the sun all the same, "Good work, Yano. Welcome back."

It had been a year and a bit since Dobu left. Yano had gotten out on parole. Not for any particular reason; he had made Sekiguchi promise to try for the same. They've been out of action for long enough.

Yano wasn't expecting for Dobu to pick him up, honestly. He didn't know what he expected.

There was something nostalgic about Dobu waiting for him against a car. Many years ago, that was a normal sight for Yano.

So much had changed since then. Dobu was still weak and ridiculous. But he had made his mark on Yano, despite it all.

And Yano had probably done the same to Dobu. Even after everything.

Dobu opened the door of his car, a simple gesture.

"Only if you want, Yano."

Yano thought about it.

Dobu was still so fucking soft. What was the use of this? Of building and apparently maintaining relationships with each other, when their lives were meant for something so base? And he had left, before. He had asked Yano to move up and leave.

Who was to say things would be different this time? Who knew how long things would last?

Yet Dobu had given him a choice now. He remembered what Yano said. He'd let Yano do whatever Yano wanted.

The thing about memory, however it was forged, was that Yano couldn't give less of a shit about it. But actual time spent together, talking or fighting or fucking, was more real than whatever phantom Dobu was trying to leave in people's minds.

And so—

He moved towards the car, and tried to ignore how mildly annoyed he felt at Dobu's small smile. He sat down, and Dobu closed the door after him. Much like that very first time they met, when Yano was younger and weaker and vulnerable.

Things might change after. Yano will find his footing again, Dobu would care too much again and forget about him, and it would be ruined, all over again. But not just yet.

"Dobu-san."

"What's up?"

"Take me out to BBQ."