Another year, another place to corral stray fic and fragments. Some of them may make it to AO3 eventually, some of them may not. Series, pairing, rating, and any relevant warnings in the subject of each comment.
Jakurai stumbled out of the conference hall, desperate for a breath of fresh air. Maybe it was just the hours spent in an overly air-conditioned room under jarring fluorescent lights with not enough water, but the world was beginning to spin around him. Inside, most of the presentations had concluded for the day, but the night, and its chance for mingling with other doctors and comparing notes, was just beginning.
He ducked into an alley beside the building and leaned against the cool brick wall. After a furtive glance around, he took a slender silver case from his pocket and lit a cigarette. Hypocritical for a doctor perhaps, but one had to allow oneself the occasional indulgences in life. He exhaled, letting the lightheadedness and fatigue that had settled over him escape alongside the smoke. It curled around him in snaking tendrils, caressing his face one last time before it dissipated into the ether.
By the time the cigarette had burned down to a stub in his fingers, he felt back to his normal self. With any luck, he would be able to slip back inside before anyone noticed he was missing. He lifted his water bottle to his lips and drained the rest of the contents. No use courting another dehydration headache, especially not when he had just fought one off.
He made it nearly to the end of the alley before another wave of disorientation hit and his knees buckled. He stumbled back into the wall, the bricks scraping down his back even through his dress shirt. The water? Would someone really go that far? The face of the waiter who had handed him the bottle swam behind his eyes, hovering infuriatingly just out of focus. No one else had seemed affected in the hall, no one else joining him in the alley...he was the specific target then? Why couldn't he remember the server's face. Whether the man had been a part of the entire plan or simply a convenient target to follow orders, he would be a key witness in identifying the perpetrators.
He took another, stumbling step. He had to get away. Didn't matter where, anywhere other than the conference hall. Someone (or something) wanted him out of the picture, or they wanted to make him suffer. Neither was ideal, but both could be thwarted by a well-timed escape.
He stumbled out of the alley and onto the main road. Another hundred yards to the subway station. He could make it that far. Maybe.
Fifty yards and his vision was going grey. He stumbled, fell to his knees. Around the ringing in his ears, he heard footsteps, many of them, closing in quickly. The first blow hit him across the face, whipping his head to the side.
"Sensei!?"
The figures around him froze. In a split second, another set of footsteps closed in. No yelling, no fuss, just a few well-placed strikes that had his attackers falling back. Those that didn't go down turned and fled into the subway.
"Sensei?"
Jakurai turned toward his savior, blinking until a face swam into focus. "Riou?"
"Sensei, are you okay?"
"Poison," Jakurai rasped.
"Can you walk?"
"I think," Jakurai said. He started to stand, but the world spun around him, and he buckled again, scraping his knees against the sidewalk.
Riou dropped down beside him, lifting him onto his shoulders without hesitation. "Come."
Unwise, perhaps, to allow oneself to be carried off by a rival crew member to an unknown location while incapacitated, but given the circumstances, better options were few. Given the rival, a better option yet. A life debt wasn't a payment easily forgotten, especially not to one such as Riou.
From his current vantage point, it was difficult to see much beyond the fabric of Riou's shirt. The inversion wasn't helping his disorientation either, so eventually Jakurai gave up and closed his eyes. He trusted that Riou would not feed him to the jaws of the enemy.
It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before they paused. Riou shifted, and then a door creaked open. As soon as they were inside, Riou bolted the door and sat Jakurai carefully on the ground.
"Conscious?"
Jakurai opened his eyes. "Yes, somehow."
"You said poison."
Jakurai nodded, then regretted the motion as it set his head spinning. "Added to a water bottle."
Riou swore softly. "Jyuuto said new poison. Clear, colorless, undetectable in water. Sometimes deadly. Here, drink." He offered a glass of water, but when Jakurai was too weak to hold it, he sat behind him and raised the glass to his lips. "Drink," he ordered, "flush out the poison."
When the glass was empty, he set it aside and helped Jakurai lean against the wall in the corner of the small, bare room.
"Where are we?" Jakurai asked.
"Yokohama still. Always good to have secure shelters throughout one's territory."
"Thank you, Riou."
Riou shook his head. "May not thank this soldier soon," he said before he raised his hands to Jakurai's bruised face.
Jakurai hissed and pulled away, but Riou stopped him with strong fingers on the back of his head. "This soldier apologizes, Sensei. Hold still."
Riou walked his fingers across Jakurai's face, feeling for breaks under the rising bruises. How many times had Jakurai done the same, crouched on the darkness of the battlefield judging who could wait and who might die? In a way, it was easier to be on the other side, to be the one assessing, not the one with vulnerabilities being laid bare before them.
Riou stepped away for a moment, returned with a cold cloth he pressed to Jakurai's face. The coolness soaked into his battered flesh, soothing the worst of the aches and smoothing out the sharpest edges.
"It's not much," Riou said softly, "but this soldier is not so skilled as Sensei."
"It is appreciated, Riou. You have already done more than I could." Riou pressed a hand to Jakurai's forehead, and Jakurai laughed softly. "I'm not ill, Riou. I doubt if I'm running a fever."
Riou flushed and turned away.
"Not a criticism, Riou. Your assistance and concern is appreciated," Jakurai said. He pressed two fingers to the pulse in his own neck, pleased to note that it had settled back into a more normal range.
"Who attacked you?"
"I don't know, but your presence thwarted their plans, whatever they may have been."
"This soldier can ask Jyuuto to investigate."
"That won't be necessary. I'm sure he has more pressing investigations to undertake," Jakurai said. As much as he may have trusted Riou, the same did not hold true for Riou's crew mates. He had trusted before, perhaps a little too easily, and he could still taste the cotton candy sweet betrayal that had followed. Better to keep one's distance. Better to survive on one's own.
"They hurt you, Sensei," Riou said, his eyes shining with the puppy dog loyalty Jakurai had thought had been beaten out of him years ago. "They would have killed you."
"We don't know that for certain, Riou, and no matter, they failed in their aim. I consider that assistance enough."
Riou looked up sharply, held Jakurai's eyes for a long moment before looking away. Not acceptance then, but an agreement to let the subject drop. "Can you move, Sensei?"
Jakurai stood slowly, pausing until he was sure the world would not begin spinning on him again. "Whatever they used, it appears to have been short-acting. I assume they never entertained the possibility of their would-be assailants failing. I feel nearly back to normal now."
"This soldier will escort you back to your territory. This soldier will also notify your crew mates of your arrival if you desire."
"Thank you, Riou." Jakurai paused. It would be reckless to turn down Riou's offer of accompaniment, but the words to decline notifying Hifumi and Doppo had been ready on the tip of his tongue before he stopped. Would it be so hard, to accept the offer of assistance? Would it not be a bad idea to have company for the night when he had been poisoned and possibly mildly concussed? They would worry, but perhaps that was acceptable, given the circumstances. "I will call Hifumi myself."
Riou held out a phone, blocky, military issue technology, nothing like the sleek lines of Jakurai's own. "Use this," Riou said. "Not much signal down here."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Poisoning: Hypmic, Jakurai & Riou, T
He ducked into an alley beside the building and leaned against the cool brick wall. After a furtive glance around, he took a slender silver case from his pocket and lit a cigarette. Hypocritical for a doctor perhaps, but one had to allow oneself the occasional indulgences in life. He exhaled, letting the lightheadedness and fatigue that had settled over him escape alongside the smoke. It curled around him in snaking tendrils, caressing his face one last time before it dissipated into the ether.
By the time the cigarette had burned down to a stub in his fingers, he felt back to his normal self. With any luck, he would be able to slip back inside before anyone noticed he was missing. He lifted his water bottle to his lips and drained the rest of the contents. No use courting another dehydration headache, especially not when he had just fought one off.
He made it nearly to the end of the alley before another wave of disorientation hit and his knees buckled. He stumbled back into the wall, the bricks scraping down his back even through his dress shirt. The water? Would someone really go that far? The face of the waiter who had handed him the bottle swam behind his eyes, hovering infuriatingly just out of focus. No one else had seemed affected in the hall, no one else joining him in the alley...he was the specific target then? Why couldn't he remember the server's face. Whether the man had been a part of the entire plan or simply a convenient target to follow orders, he would be a key witness in identifying the perpetrators.
He took another, stumbling step. He had to get away. Didn't matter where, anywhere other than the conference hall. Someone (or something) wanted him out of the picture, or they wanted to make him suffer. Neither was ideal, but both could be thwarted by a well-timed escape.
He stumbled out of the alley and onto the main road. Another hundred yards to the subway station. He could make it that far. Maybe.
Fifty yards and his vision was going grey. He stumbled, fell to his knees. Around the ringing in his ears, he heard footsteps, many of them, closing in quickly. The first blow hit him across the face, whipping his head to the side.
"Sensei!?"
The figures around him froze. In a split second, another set of footsteps closed in. No yelling, no fuss, just a few well-placed strikes that had his attackers falling back. Those that didn't go down turned and fled into the subway.
"Sensei?"
Jakurai turned toward his savior, blinking until a face swam into focus. "Riou?"
"Sensei, are you okay?"
"Poison," Jakurai rasped.
"Can you walk?"
"I think," Jakurai said. He started to stand, but the world spun around him, and he buckled again, scraping his knees against the sidewalk.
Riou dropped down beside him, lifting him onto his shoulders without hesitation. "Come."
Unwise, perhaps, to allow oneself to be carried off by a rival crew member to an unknown location while incapacitated, but given the circumstances, better options were few. Given the rival, a better option yet. A life debt wasn't a payment easily forgotten, especially not to one such as Riou.
From his current vantage point, it was difficult to see much beyond the fabric of Riou's shirt. The inversion wasn't helping his disorientation either, so eventually Jakurai gave up and closed his eyes. He trusted that Riou would not feed him to the jaws of the enemy.
It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before they paused. Riou shifted, and then a door creaked open. As soon as they were inside, Riou bolted the door and sat Jakurai carefully on the ground.
"Conscious?"
Jakurai opened his eyes. "Yes, somehow."
"You said poison."
Jakurai nodded, then regretted the motion as it set his head spinning. "Added to a water bottle."
Riou swore softly. "Jyuuto said new poison. Clear, colorless, undetectable in water. Sometimes deadly. Here, drink." He offered a glass of water, but when Jakurai was too weak to hold it, he sat behind him and raised the glass to his lips. "Drink," he ordered, "flush out the poison."
When the glass was empty, he set it aside and helped Jakurai lean against the wall in the corner of the small, bare room.
"Where are we?" Jakurai asked.
"Yokohama still. Always good to have secure shelters throughout one's territory."
"Thank you, Riou."
Riou shook his head. "May not thank this soldier soon," he said before he raised his hands to Jakurai's bruised face.
Jakurai hissed and pulled away, but Riou stopped him with strong fingers on the back of his head. "This soldier apologizes, Sensei. Hold still."
Riou walked his fingers across Jakurai's face, feeling for breaks under the rising bruises. How many times had Jakurai done the same, crouched on the darkness of the battlefield judging who could wait and who might die? In a way, it was easier to be on the other side, to be the one assessing, not the one with vulnerabilities being laid bare before them.
Riou stepped away for a moment, returned with a cold cloth he pressed to Jakurai's face. The coolness soaked into his battered flesh, soothing the worst of the aches and smoothing out the sharpest edges.
"It's not much," Riou said softly, "but this soldier is not so skilled as Sensei."
"It is appreciated, Riou. You have already done more than I could."
Riou pressed a hand to Jakurai's forehead, and Jakurai laughed softly. "I'm not ill, Riou. I doubt if I'm running a fever."
Riou flushed and turned away.
"Not a criticism, Riou. Your assistance and concern is appreciated," Jakurai said. He pressed two fingers to the pulse in his own neck, pleased to note that it had settled back into a more normal range.
"Who attacked you?"
"I don't know, but your presence thwarted their plans, whatever they may have been."
"This soldier can ask Jyuuto to investigate."
"That won't be necessary. I'm sure he has more pressing investigations to undertake," Jakurai said. As much as he may have trusted Riou, the same did not hold true for Riou's crew mates. He had trusted before, perhaps a little too easily, and he could still taste the cotton candy sweet betrayal that had followed. Better to keep one's distance. Better to survive on one's own.
"They hurt you, Sensei," Riou said, his eyes shining with the puppy dog loyalty Jakurai had thought had been beaten out of him years ago. "They would have killed you."
"We don't know that for certain, Riou, and no matter, they failed in their aim. I consider that assistance enough."
Riou looked up sharply, held Jakurai's eyes for a long moment before looking away. Not acceptance then, but an agreement to let the subject drop. "Can you move, Sensei?"
Jakurai stood slowly, pausing until he was sure the world would not begin spinning on him again. "Whatever they used, it appears to have been short-acting. I assume they never entertained the possibility of their would-be assailants failing. I feel nearly back to normal now."
"This soldier will escort you back to your territory. This soldier will also notify your crew mates of your arrival if you desire."
"Thank you, Riou." Jakurai paused. It would be reckless to turn down Riou's offer of accompaniment, but the words to decline notifying Hifumi and Doppo had been ready on the tip of his tongue before he stopped. Would it be so hard, to accept the offer of assistance? Would it not be a bad idea to have company for the night when he had been poisoned and possibly mildly concussed? They would worry, but perhaps that was acceptable, given the circumstances. "I will call Hifumi myself."
Riou held out a phone, blocky, military issue technology, nothing like the sleek lines of Jakurai's own. "Use this," Riou said. "Not much signal down here."