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s-w-o-r-d-alliance · 3 years ago

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Stay With Me - Jiang Zisuan/Liu Sang Fic Teaser

Summary:

It was the eyes that got him first, dark and unwelcoming yet drawing Liu Sang in like a gravitational pull, it was terrifying at first, but when Jiang Zisuan merely walked away with that dead set confidence and determination of a man on a mission it was like nothing mattered but him. Liu Sang had watched and hesitated as the man went deeper into the abyss. He expected him to be dead, so he was surprised and guiltily happy when Wu Xie said he saw him escape.

Jiang Zisuan was a mystery in and of itself.

And Liu Sang loved mysteries

Or, the story of Jiang Zisuan and Liu Sang's love. Aka, my dying need to have JiangLiu smut and fluff. I already wrote out all chapters, let me know if you like this and I'll release the others.

AO3 Link to full fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40265070/chapters/100854798

AO3 Tags: Jiang Zisuan/Liu Sang Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Jiang Zisuan, Kan Jian (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian, Zhang Qiling, Zhang Rishan, Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Xie Yuchen, Hei Xia Zi (DMBJ Series), Luo Que (Tomb of the Sea), Luo Que, Hei Xia Zi, Xie Yuchen are only mentioned

Additional tags: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Wu Xie being his usual nosey self, Liu Sang just wants to live in peace, Jiang Zisuan hated interacting with people, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Liu Sang getting dicked down

One thing Liu Sang learned when he first met Jiang Zisuan was that the man was a shield of armor, impenetrable to weakness. And he liked to leave for long periods of time, whether it was just to get away or for some mission he’d been hired for. And yes, that does sound like Jiang Zisuan neglected Liu Sang, but that was far from the truth. When Jiang Zisuan and Liu Sang first met, they were both injured, hurting and so badly wanting to achieve their goals. Despite the fact that their goals would impede one another - Liu Sang wanted to save Wu Xie, while Jiang Zisuan made it his mission to avenge his sister. Of course, at the time Liu Sang knew none of that and only saw the big, scary, and gorgeous man as someone who kinda saved him and Xiao Bai. Even after getting taken hostage by him. When he got with Jiang Zisuan, the man had made it clear that he had issues with staying in one place too long, he liked moving and staying on his feet. But they had compromised.

It began after Thunder City.

It didn’t make sense when Wu Xie later explained that Zisuan was trying to kill him because he believed that Wu Xie had killed his sister, Ah Ning. Liu Sang had sat back in the hospital bed and felt shame curl up into a ball in his stomach, clenching punishingly, for the small affection and attraction he felt for the sniper and listening to PangZi's rant of strangling the head off his body. Then Wu Xie had said that Jiang Zisuan may have some misunderstanding of the situation and it wasn’t that big of a deal, but then Liu Sang watched as his Ouxiang spoke three words. Each one darker than the other and laden with a bloody promise. Liu Sang’s ears weren’t much better yet, but it was clear what Ouxiang thought of the man.

“I’ll kill him.”

And the guilt strung itself tighter inside his heart, pulsing and persistent until he made everyone leave. Told them he needed to rest and that his head was hurting. And if he dreamed of dark eyes and a startling figure clad in black, well that was his business and no one else's.

. . .

After that whole fiasco, Liu Sang had not only thought of the man, but also confided in Kan-Jian and Xiao Bai. They had both been supportive, pouring him another drink and listening intently. They had come by to surprise him since they said he didn’t seem to be as active or happy in their little group chat.

But he hardly was, anyway. The group chat was named ‘The Underrated Squad’ which was the least creative name out there, but he had no say when Xiao Bai pulled out the puppy dog eyes and got Kan-Jian to agree with her. An unfair alliance, if you asked him.

“I don’t know what to do.” Liu Sang groaned, laying his head on his folded arms on his kitchen counter and trying to ease the inevitable headache he felt approaching.

“Easy, find Jiang Zisuan and tell him how you feel.” Kan-Jian said, sipping his martini from a dainty, little straw.

Liu Sang glared, eyes rolling and mood dampening further. “I don’t have any feelings for him, dumbass-ow! Sorry.” Liu Sang murmured as Xiao Bai struck him in the back of the head, disapproval written all over her face despite Kan-Jian’s indifference even when being insulted. More guilt seeped into Liu Sang’s cheeks and he apologized once again. Kan-Jian just smiled brightly and continued drinking his martini. “I don’t have feelings for him, Xiao Bai.” Liu Sang defended, earning him an eye roll from the little woman.

Xiao Bai leaned in close, eyes narrowed and mouth downturned. “Sure, Huli. Then why are we here? Let’s leave, Kan-Jian, we’re clearly not getting the juicy gossip we wanted.” Xiao Bai grabbed Kan-Jian’s arm and Liu Sang hurried to pull her back.

“Wait! Wait, come back, I’m really lost here.” He felt his breath stutter when shock and concern coated the atmosphere, Xiao Bai tensed and her brows furrowed as she reached and gripped his hand on her arm and held it in both of her smaller ones. Her eyes were big, honest and open as she smiled reassuringly, a little tilt of Kan-Jian’s head as he curiously perused Liu Sang’s face.

“What’s wrong, Huli?” Kan-Jian inquired, a warm hand landing on Liu Sang’s shoulder. The nickname was an inside joke in their little group, these two loved to compare Liu Sang to a nine-tailed fox, known for its beauty, seduction, and cunning nature. Liu Sang didn’t believe he had any of those qualities, but they still insisted on calling him Huli, so far no one outside their circle had caught on, and he hoped that would continue on in the future. He sighed and undid his ponytail, it was too tight and wasn’t helping with the headache brewing a storm of overthinking and pain.

“I don’t- It’s complicated. I only met the guy once, and yeah, sure he’s handsome, tall, muscly, dark, mysterious… and hot -” Liu Sang trailed off staring into the distance, only breaking from his own trance when Kan-Jian snapped his fingers in front of his face. “-Uh, anyway, stop looking at me like that, Warehouse Princess. I just have this urge to call him, text him, hear his voice… but I don’t even have a phone number, let alone any idea who he is and if he’ll punch me in the face for thinking of him this way. We both know how being gay can affect the way people here look at you. And keep in mind I only met him once!” Frustration poured into his tone, desperation making him say and act in a way he’d never let anyone but his two closest friends witness.

Xiao Bai and Kan-Jian shared a look, then nodded to one another after a few seconds of silent discussion. “Liu Sang, maybe you should just try to find out how to contact him before doing all this worrying?”

Liu Sang nodded. He figured that made sense, if he contacted him it wouldn’t hurt? Right?

“But what do I tell Wu Xie and Ouxiang?” Liu Sang mumbled, insecurity seeping into his tone and making Xiao Bai pull his head into her arms and coo at him. Embarrassing. Fuck, why did he even ask?

“You could tell them the truth.” Kan-Jian said, once again, the pure sunshine of Wushanju’s daily life. And once again the most oblivious.

“No, I can’t. This would just cause an argument, and I-I don’t want to disappoint them. Especially considering nothing has even happened to tell them. I don’t get the point in telling them I have-I mean, I’m somewhat interested in the man that tried to kill Wu Xie.” Liu Sang pulled from Xiao Bai’s embrace and took a sip of his drink, feeling awkward and out of his depth as his friends’ probing, knowing eyes took in the vulnerability and bleeding wound he’d just revealed for them to pick apart and judge. But instead of the usual disapproval he’d get after announcing one of his insecurities from some people he tried to open up to, they just smiled and suddenly he was wrapped in a strong embrace, the scents of flowers - Kan-Jian - and pine - Xiao Bai - were a comfort in themselves. A strong reminder that they had ingrained in his head that he would always have them.

Xiao Bai was the first to speak, tender and full of fondness. “Oh, Huli, you’re too worried about nothing. Look, how about we help you contact Jiang Zisuan? Don’t think about anything else, only think of what you’re gonna say and do. As for telling the Iron Triangle, let’s deal with that later on. Okay?”

Kan-Jian nodded in agreement, a thoughtful expression passing over his face as Liu Sang tried to calm his growing anxiety. It wasn’t that he was scared - scratch that, he was terrified - but Jiang Zisuan was the first man Liu Sang had looked at as more than just someone he knew, and he didn’t even want to think about what could happen to him if Jiang Zisuan decided he didn’t want to have another man thinking of him that way. The man was an assassin, after all.

Kan-Jian sipped the rest of his martini, smiling as he watched Liu Sang digest the information. Kan-Jian knew that his friend was a stubborn person, very strict on himself, and dangerously protective of those he loved. Even willing to sacrifice himself for the wellbeing of them, whether it was from the strongest - like Xiaoge - or the most gullible - Wu Xie, if Liu Sang cared for you, he would do anything for you.

“Huli. Don’t overthink like you always do, why is it so hard for you to be reckless and wild? Look at me, not a care in the world." Kan-Jian boasted, gesturing to his relaxed posture leaning back in the ugly chair that Xiao Bai convinced him to buy when he redecorated his apartment. He'd never say that aloud, though. Liu Sang quite liked living.

Liu Sang rolled his eyes and slid from the stool to get another beer, anxiety slipping away as the night drew on. Xiao Bai was cracking jokes, being her usual bubbly self and Kan-Jian would make funny faces and absurd sounds as he pretended to be an opera singer. And like that the former stressful situation dripped away, left to pool in the corner for Liu Sang to drown in later. Right now, though, this was where he wanted to be.

. . .

"Holy shit." Liu Sang murmured, blood draining from his face as he dumbly stared at the stupid ass message he'd just sent to the man of his dreams. Jiang Zisuan.

He had gotten his hands on Jiang Zisuan's contact details - an email and phone number - from Kan-Jian (how he did it? Liu Sang had no idea and didn't want to know) and the man was insistent that Liu Sang not chicken out and all his suffering be in vain. Again… how the fuck and what the fuck did he do to get this? It's not like Wu Xie had the numbers and emails of all his enemies laying around on his desk.

Okay. Maybe.

That would be a lot of information, but with how often Wu Xie was kidnapped it wouldn't be a surprise to anyone, really. Ouxiang had to have collected the information over the years.

Liu Sang pushed those worthless thoughts away and returned to drowning in his own self-pity and self-loathing. Embarrassment clawed its way through Liu Sang's body and threatened to rip his very soul from his body, but that would be too merciful. Instead he could only sit there and wish for the Earth to open up and swallow everything - specifically him - into its deep, dark abyss.

He had sent the most bullshit text. One that he would never admit to sending.

'Hello, Mr. Jiang. This is Hulu, and I would like to hire your services for one day. At this location and date:'

And then Liu Sang had sent the details of a hotel near his apartment, which was stupid in itself, and a date a few days away. That wasn't even the worst part. No, that text had been sent hours ago and left on read with no reply. So not only had he made an ass out of himself, but he did so without any results.

And who would agree to meet a stranger they've never even heard of at a location of that stranger's choice?

No matter how badass a man was-

Liu Sang dropped out of his daze at the sound of his phone pinging, he almost broke a vase trying to reach for it and ended up with a bruise on his elbow along with a headache from his own racket. Breathless as excitement pushed its way into his heart, he opened the messages and bit his lip in anticipation as he saw something from Jiang Zisuan.

'Ok. You know my price. Have the money ready or I'll kill you.'

Liu Sang almost squealed but held back out of dignity and the safety of his own ears. It was a weird reaction to being threatened with death, but then again the whole situation itself was odd enough. He didn't like the thought of being maimed, no, he just liked the man behind the message. And yes, he had come to terms with his feelings and decided labeling it a crush was the most accurate for how he felt. Did he love the man? Hell no. Did he find him alluring and incredibly sexy? Fuck yes.

Jiang Zisuan was a mystery in and of itself.

And Liu Sang loved mysteries. It was one of the reasons he got into tomb exploration.

After calling Xiao Bai and Kan-Jian to tell them the good news, they made him well aware of some big problems. Holes in his plan he should have taken into consideration when he was concocting this whole thing.

One, where the fuck would he get the money to pay a third of what Jiang Zisuan demanded? Second, would Jiang Zisuan seriously kill him for not having the money? And lastly, what the hell was he gonna say when he met him?

"Xiao Bai… what the fuck did I just get myself into?" Liu Sang wondered aloud, heart jack-rabbiting in his throat.

The woman was on video call and rolled her eyes as Liu Sang asked that question. "I don't think you have time to regret right now, you should be brainstorming about what you'll say to your sexy assassin."

Kan-Jian perked up at that, smiling big and puppy eyes sparkling. Why couldn't Liu Sang fall for him instead? It would be more simple and less nerve-wracking. "Yeah! We all know Jiang Zisuan is- Uh oh… hi, Laoban." Kan-Jian disappeared off to the side and Liu Sang's heart dropped from his chest through his ass and promptly buried itself in the ground. A self-burial for Liu Sang's now dead soul.

Xiao Bai was pale, lips pressed into a thin line. Liu Sang was ready to hang up the phone when Kan-Jian appeared again, this time with Wu Xie smiling widely and waving.

"Wow, hello. All my kids love each other so much, face timing and sharing diabolical plans for getting their crush alone." Wu Xie teased, and Liu Sang hung up the phone call.

His entire existence was doomed. Cursed from the moment he was born.

. . .

It was the day before the meeting and Liu Sang had called his friends over for emotional support. Xiao Bai was kicked back on his couch with a can of whipped cream, a steady stream of it in her mouth, while Kan-Jian was on his fifth beer and dozing off beside her. Liu Sang was in the loveseat trying to keep his mind off the impending doom tomorrow and watch the stupid drama on TV.

Then he heard someone walking up to his apartment, loud and boisterous in thick boots, heavy as they made the floorboards creak. Along with it was an erratic heartbeat like someone who never relaxed and was always in the mood to have fun, behind that was a steady heartbeat and then there was a heartbeat he would recognize from miles away.

What the fuck were the Iron Triangle doing here?

"Jinx! Let us in!" PangZi's voice already caused a tremor of irritation and pain in Liu Sang's head. He believed the man did it on purpose by this point. Xiao Bai was startled for a second, but a light lit up in her eyes as she stood and practically sprinted to the door, Liu Sang sighed in resignation and sunk deeper into the loveseat, closing his eyes to portray blissful ignorance. Of course that was impossible when a fat man decided he was gonna shatter the windows with his loud banter and antics.

"Is Liu Sang asleep, Xiao Bai?" Wu Xie asked, even though he knew damn well that he can't sleep with all that ruckus.

"No. He's just trying to get enough emotional strength to build up his walls so he can shut us all out and pretend to be fine."

Wow, fuck off.

"Liu Sang knows he can't hide forever, so let's be big boys, huh?" He knew that Wu Xie directed that at him, but he still refused to admit defeat.

"Liu Sang." It was Ouxiang this time that called his name.

Liu Sang popped his eyes open and sat up, crossing his arms petulantly and ignoring the stupid snort from PangZi.

Wu Xie plopped right beside him, looking normal and healthy in his cardigan and dress pants, glasses perched on his nose as he stared down at Liu Sang.

Why the hell did everyone dig into his personal affairs?

"I knew I should have just kept it to myself." Liu Sang mumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose.

PangZi was kicked back on the couch, dirty socks on Liu Sang's expensive glass table.

"Get your feet off my damn table."

"Make me." PangZj grinned, flexing his toes under his socks. Liu Sang scrunched his nose up and was about to stand and do just that, but Wu Xie tsked at PangZi and pulled him back. PangZi rolled his eyes but took his nasty appendages off the table.

"We got something to talk about." Wu Xie said, tone stern and leaving no room for arguing. It seemed this was his fate. The universe truly hated him. "You have a crush on-"

"Pah! He's in love with our enemy." PangZi interrupted, and shame colored Liu Sang's cheeks and he looked down at his clasped hands. Embarrassment and guilt settled deep in his belly, tightening and coiling like a snake.

"Shut up, PangZi. Look, you upset him. It's okay, Liu Sang. We can't control who we fall for, just like we can't choose to be born or not. It's impossible to ignore your heart." Wu Xie was supportive, a hand on Liu Sang's in reassurance as he smiled softly. And Liu Sang felt fondness wash over him, suddenly grateful for the older man. But the guilt had already clawed its way inside his heart and he stood abruptly, strutting to his kitchen and pulling out a drink as he sat on the stool.

"You all should leave." Liu Sang said. "My ears still hurt a bit and I need to lie down so-"

"Huli! We just want to help." Kan-Jian cut him off, whining. He was sitting on the couch beside PangZi, Xiao Bai sitting on the floor beside the table.

Liu Sang shook his head. "Mmm, you should go. I think I need to sleep, thanks, though."

Wu Xie stood. "C'mon, you know we just want to help you and protect you from danger. Don't shut your family-"

Liu Sang scoffed. "Family? Please. All of you get out, now." He listened as Xiao Bai sniffled - breaking his heart a bit - and shuffled toward the door. PangZi hesitated near the couch but Ouxiang pulled him and Wu Xie out.

The door clicked shut and he listened until he couldn't hear their cars and heart beats anymore. Then he went to bed and soaked in his own self-pity.

. . .

Liu Sang woke with a start, sweat beading down his forehead into his eyes. He hadn't been able to sleep at all last night, mind racing and heart uneasy as the minutes ticked down. He had just fallen to sleep at 9am when his alarm rang and told him to get his ass up. He reached over and turned the damned thing off - he only used it on the lowest volume when needed - before he threw his phone across the room.

His head started throbbing even after he put his noise-cancelling earbuds in, tense and right in the temporal lobe as if he didn't have enough shit to deal with this morning.

Today was the day he met Jiang Zisuan, for the third time to be exact, and hopefully avoided getting a bullet between the eyes.

The money. Yes. He was aware he did not have the money, but he hoped that a good conversation would diffuse that situation.

The only problem was that he sucked at communicating.

He stood in his bathroom staring at the mirror, shirt off and hair down. His hands traced down the various scars on his body, burnt skin ragged and rough to the touch. He was skinny, but he worked hard to gain some definition in his pecs and abs, the results weren't that visible and he felt the insatiable urge to cover his whole torso in bandages to shield it from his disgusted perusal.

Liu Sang was used to hating himself, the self-loathing and deprecation had been engraved in him from his master. She had told him time and time again the only good thing about him was his ability to see without sight, to know what hid in the shadows and lurked behind every door. The demons, the angels and all the in-betweens. She wasn't cruel, she just made it clear what her goal was and the use for him was only pertinent to achieve that goal.

Which wasn't surprising. Most people only ever contacted Liu Sang for his hearing, it was even rarer for people to want to talk to him just because.

He often heard that he made people uncomfortable with his stand-offish behavior and the fact that he could hear every lie and accusation they told him. No one liked being seen through like glass.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table and he jogged out to check it. Shit, he had less than thirty minutes to be dressed and out the door.

He quickly grabbed a black long sleeved shirt and some nice jeans before throwing himself in the shower, washing in record time, and getting dressed faster than record time. He brushed his hair and quickly put it up before grabbing black boots and socks - he almost broke his neck as he fell off the couch.

Liu Sang gave himself a look over and grabbed the essentials before racing downstairs hoping his didi he called for earlier was there. It was pulling up and he didn't wait for it to park fully before he hopped in the back seat and told him the address.

As he caught his breath and tried to calm his pacing heart, he turned the white noise up on his earbuds to drown out the sounds from both the engine and the bustling society around him.

Thoughts ran through his head, body vibrating with nerves. What if this was his last day? What if Jiang Zisuan didn't like him that way? What would he even say? Hi, I like you but only met you once, can you be my something and put up with my bouts of depression and self-hate?

He sighed and decided he'll just come up with it as he goes.

The Didi came to a stop outside the hotel and Liu Sang left a good tip, checking his phone for the time, relieved to see he still had five minutes before Jiang Zisuan arrived.

He entered the lobby and went to the receptionist, she raised her bespectacled eyes at him but gave him his key and sent him on his way before he could ask what the problem was. Maybe it was a bit weird for him to be at a hotel by himself, but was it that strange to be judged? He shooed the stupid thoughts away and found his room, he stood outside the door and just breathed for a few minutes then he braved himself and squared.his shoulders and opened the door, stepping in and realizing too late that he was not alone.

Jiang Zisuan himself threw Liu Sang into the wall, a knife held at the ready pressing a line to Liu Sang's throat. Liu Sang looked into the eyes that had been haunting him for weeks, deep and unreadable as they searched Liu Sang's face for something. What exactly? Jiang Zisuan must have found it because he pulled away a second later, still tensed and ready to fight if needed. Liu Sang held up his hands in surrender, standing straighter but still leaning against the wall.

The other man was like a panther, dark and slinking and watching Liu Sang before his lip curled into a smirk.

#jiang zisuan #the lost tomb #zhang qiling #xiaoge #wu xie #daomu biji #wang pangzi #dmbj #smut #ao3fic #ao3 works #fanfic

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s-w-o-r-d-alliance · 4 years ago

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[Maekawa Arata- High & Low: The Worst] Not the Person You Used to Know Pt. 2

Part 1

A few weeks had gone by, and Arata was able to use the money he stole to get his Mother the chemotherapy she needed. There were still bills piled sky high on the kitchen counter, but he made do. Barely. He ignored it, those thoughts that had been sneaking up in his brain every once in a while. They whispered of bad things to come, of him getting what he deserved really soon - he didn’t want to think of what else it could mean. The threat that hung above his head every minute was heavy, bearing down with all its weight and promising a very cruel ending to his story.

Arata shook the dirt out of his mind and focused on keeping his head low and face covered- he walked around the hospital where his mom resided multiple times a night. He couldn’t beat the feeling of something bad happening to her if he didn’t check things out at least three times. Again, his nerves were fried with paranoia.

Horror dawned on Arata when he realized he was being followed. They wouldn't be noticeable in the dark of the night, had Arata not already been paranoid and cautious while surveying his surroundings. He didn't hesitate and took off in a sprint before the person could get any closer to him. Maybe he was being crazy, or acting overly-suspicious, but he had tried to shake the feeling, tried to ignore it and it had been in vain.

Just like when Arata had left his past behind, left Fujio and their close-knit family. Those thoughts flew away when the person behind him got closer, practically on his heels. Arata knew these streets, though, having spent his life on them while trying to occupy his freetime and take advantage of not having parental supervision.

Arata swerved down a corner, his beat up sneakers slapped against the wet concrete followed by those of the person that followed him. He soon came to the conclusion that they were relentless, having tailed him half across town and still going strong.

Arata managed to find a dumpster to huddle against, covering his mouth and trying to mask his breathing. His ears twitched as he closed his eyes to listen to the footsteps. The person slowly walked into the alley where the dumpster was, stopping for a second before bursting into a sudden sprint. Before Arata could react, they grabbed him and pinned him to the wall. He tried to scream but the person was unyielding, and a rag covered Arata's face and he felt the drug soak into his bones.

His fear hitched as he lost consciousness.

. . .

"...Idiot…da…"

Arata whined as his head throbbed and his eyeballs felt like they just got kicked around in his head. Someone was talking, their voice indistinct as he opened his eyes and took note of the darkness of the room. And he couldn't breathe very well, either. His hands were bound behind his back, the rope tight and raw against his wrists.

He struggled, pulling and kicking his legs out in an attempt to break free but a kick to the gut caused him to cry and curl into himself.

"Aww, he's kinda cute. Don't you think? Like a puppy."

"T, quit fucking with the kid and help me."

"Yes, sir!" T shouted playfully.

Arata gasped as he finally took notice of the bag on his head, tight and suffocating. His body fought for air and he thrashed wildly, a lump lodged in his throat as his terror spiked in his veins. "Wh-what-"

Someone pulled the bag off his head, and Arata sucked in as much air as he could, greedy as oxygen made his blood pump better and his heart slowed its panicked pulses.

The bright light of a lamp glowered in his face, so he scrunched his nose and turned away. The men that were his captors came closer. One of them grabbed him by his hair and lifted his face to the light. "Damn, he is quite a looker. What did the boss say we could do with him?" The man asked, and Arata noticed he was quite young. His face was soft, despite the scar that curved up his cheek. He had sunglasses on, from what little Arata could see and his lips were upturned into a grin.

"Boss said we could do whatever as long as the kid gets what he deserves for being a little thief." The other man said, lurking in the shadows. "So, T, how much do you think a foreigner would pay for him? My mom knows some aunties who are looking for young and cute boys to spend their time with."

The man in front of Arata, T, turned to face Arata and chuckled. He turned Arata's face back and forth, soft but firm grip on his chin telling Arata that he'd be gentle but he would use force if necessary. Arata grimaced as he noticed how grimy he must look, pale and stress bags under his eyes.

T hummed and stood abruptly, pushing Arata down as he did so. Arata groaned, his body protesting. "I think if we get him some rest and food he'd be a pretty good amount. Right now, he looks stressed and tired. Probably hungry." Just then, Arata's stomach growled loud and angry in the small room they were in. T grinned, reaching down and helping Arata up. T untied the restraints, clearly sure of his ability to stop Arata if he tried anything, and gripped Arata's arm.

Arata shook his arm off, pissed and beyond confused. "What the hell do you want from me?" He asked. T huffed, a scandalized expression on his face.

"Is that any way to address your savior?" T scolded Arata.

"Fuck off." Arata hissed, getting close to his captor's face. T grinned once again, seeming amused at Arata's attitude. What the hell's the matter with this guy? Arata thought.

"T! Stop flirting with the kid, we gotta do this quick before his little bratty friends find out he's gone."

"I'm not flirting, Yuta. He's adorable, like a kitten left out on the streets… fierce but harmless." T said to Yuta.

Arata gritted his teeth and followed as T grabbed his arm again and led him down a hall, lit with low lamps and into a room with a bed, a dresser and a bathroom.

Yuta strided into the room, arms spread out. "This is your new home. You will stay here until you reach your full money potential, then we'll find you a new home." Arata curled his lip in disgust.

T gripped Arata harder, to the point where Arata yelped in pain. "There's nothing to worry about, we'll make sure you're fed and healthy until that time comes. Now go on and rest a bit, we'll bring you some clothes in a few hours." T not so gently pushed Arata into the room, Yuta followed him out and they slammed the door shut, a lock clicking in place and a bolt telling Arata he may as well give up.

But he wouldn't. He'd be damned if he was gonna let these freaks do what they please with him.

It was time to form a plan.

. . .

"Fujio! Isn't it time you stopped pouting, and came to terms with what happened? You and Seiji still haven't moved on." Madoka scolded said boys as they slumped over the table in Harasawa Market. Seiji had a sullen look on his face and his notes were spread out on the table, meanwhile, Fujio chewed on a cucumber and frowned excessively every once in a while.

Fujio let out a sigh, frustration and worry wearing his usually youthful face with lines and wrinkles. He knew it was bad. Being this sad and irritated over someone else's decisions, but damnit he was pissed. Arata didn't need to go the route he did, but he did so and made everything a bigger mess. Fujio heard a few mumbles and rumours about a certain "blond and cute boy" that roamed around the streets at night and paced in place for no reason.

Fujio huffed at his own thoughts, taking an angry bite of his cucumber as vengeance. Screw Arat and all his bad decisions, fuck his "I have to take responsibilty alone" shitty attitude.

Okay, Fujio didn't mean any of that. Fujio looked at Seiji, who had been studying, to see he had a single tear falling sideways down his nose. Guilt seeped into Fujio's heart, making him realize that moping wasn't the best way to cope with things and it surely didn't help anyone else except in making them sad.

Fujio stood, about to go somewhere he can think better-and maybe cry a bit, when Jamou crashed into the store, out of breath as he searched around for someone.

"Ha-Fujio! Fujio!" Jamou shouted, stumbling to a stop in front of Fujio, looking up with desperation in his eyes.

"Jamou, what's wrong?" Fujio demanded, and put his hands on Jamou's shoulders reassuringly.

Jamou inhaled sharply, then said, "I know where Arata is."

"What?!" Fujio sputtered.

"Where?! Is he okay?" Madoka yelled, reaching for Jamou's collar.

Seiji abruptly stood, face unusually serious. "Let him talk, Doka." He said softly.

Madoka growled before throwing herself into a chair and glowering at Jamou. "Speak."

Fujio listened intently as Jamou retold the events of his day. "Okay, I was getting my usual morning tea and had a sudden feeling… like someone was watching me, y'know? So, I looked around and saw no one so I thought I was just being overdramatic and then I saw a stray cat and got side-"

"Jamou!" Fujio chided. "Focus before I let Madoka eat you."

Jamou squeaked, side-eyeing Madoka cautiously. "Okay, okay, sorry. Anyway, I was almost at school when someone snatched me up from behind. Boy, I thought I was a goner," Jamou paused collecting his thoughts before continuing, "I didn't expect the man to push me against the wall, I thought this was a toxic yaoi live-action type prank, but he just leaned… really close and whispered in my ear." Jamou said, Fujio and the others leaning toward him in anticipation and impatience.

"He said, 'Tell your friends that Arata is in a warehouse at this address' then gave me a piece of paper, he slipped it into my pants pocket over my butt! Then he hit a point on my neck that made me pass out. I woke up a few minutes ago, missed school completely. Now here I am." Jamou said, and Fujio groaned in disappointment. Great.

"How do you know this guy's telling the truth?" Fujio asked.

Jamou furrowed his brows. "Well, I don't… but any clue is a good one, right? And it wouldn't hurt if we tried."

Fujio nodded, knowing Jamou was right.

Seiji walked closer to Jamou, holding a hand out expectantly. "Give me the paper. Please."

Jamou stuttered, then pulled a crumpled piece of paper out and before he could hand it to Seiji, Fujio snatched it, holding it behind his back. "Give it to me, Fujio!" Seiji said.

Fujio shook his head. "No, I'll get some help from the guys, but you should focus on your studies. Please, Seiji. You're the Hope of the Hopeless… we need you to be you." Fujio smiled assuringly, tucking the paper in his pocket. Seiji nodded, eyes wet and slouched into a chair resigned to his fate.

Fujio nodded, Madoka reaching for Seiji's shoulder supportively. Fujio gestured for Jamou to follow and opened the door, Seiji gripped his left wrist before he could leave, though. "Fujio, can you promise me you'll bring him home?" Seiji whispered, his brown eyes pleading. Fujio grinned fondly, all teeth before patting Seiji's hand on his wrist and left.

Fujio gathered as many willing men he could for this rescue mission. It was time to bring Arata home.

. . .

Arata had been here for three days. He counted with some marks on the wall he scratched with a stray rock. T and Yuta had been taking turns feeding him and checking on him.

He's been forced to take sedatives to sleep, his captors claimed it would help him rest better, so he stayed drowsy most of the time, only managing the bare minimum. That was probably what they intended anyway, to make Arata so tired he'd let them do whatever they want without a fuss.

Fuck that. Arata was tired of always being pushed around and having to obey others' orders for the most stupid shit. He had been thinking of a plan, but with how much they drugged him it's almost impossible to be coherent enough to even talk let alone think.

"Hey! Pay attention." T whined, Arata sent him a glare before getting back into his original position- on a chair across from T as they played a stupid card game. Arata was asleep when T shuffled in and said he'd keep him company. Arata had been wary, but eventually decided it was better than doing nothing but sleeping and eating whatever snacks T left in the fridge for him.

He admitted that while he was a captive, they treated him better than any kidnappers he's heard of- they gave him food, he had his own bathroom and he had a bed that wasn't too bad. The only downside was not seeing the sun or breathing fresh air and the big, neon sign above his head that said he was gonna be occupying an Aunty's bed if he didn't get his shit together and find out how to get away.

"I feel like you're not here emotionally, Banana head." T groaned, pushing his sunglasses up his nose and crossing his arms. Arata scowled, throwing his hand of cards on the table. Damn crybaby, Arata cursed him in his head. And he was, he pouted over the smallest things- Arata ignored him the first day and the man refused to let Arata live it down.

Arata pursed his lips and thought of many ways to torture T when he got out of this hellhole. "Go suck on your bottle of warm milk and leave me alone. And stop calling me that." Arata growled, pushing himself up from the chair and stalking back to the bed to glare at the wall. T's chair scraped against the ground and Arata felt relief when he thought he was leaving, instead T came closer and squatted down in front of Arata, his usual cocky grin seated on his face.

"You're a real firecracker, you know that?" T teased.

"And? What about it?"

"Nothing. Just… I think you're an interesting puzzle, made up of pieces that only fit together when positioned at the right angle. I have something to tell you." T suddenly stood up, and Arata warily followed as T led him to a corner of the room, crowding him against it and leaning over him.

"W-what the hell…?" Arata trailed off when T leaned closer, and he could see his own reflection in those dark glasses. T smirked knowingly before putting a hand on the wall beside Arata effectively caging him in.

"He shouldn't hear us here." T whispered, and Arata felt embarrassment paint him red. Oh. The room is tapped, so T was just moving them somewhere they wouldn't be heard by Yuta. But why? What would T hide from his partner? And why would he tell Arata? "Be quiet. No questions. Your friends are probably on their way here, so I don't have much time-shut up," Arata snapped his mouth shut and nodded. "But they'll be here any minute, Yuta is too busy being a dickhead to even fathom someone finding our 'hideout' that he only has a few men guarding this place. Your only chance of escape is your friends, so be prepared to fight your way out to them. You'll know when the time is right, I'll leave the door open for when you have to leave. Alright, questions?"

Arata stammered, brain trying to sort through all the information and the many questions he had.. "Why are you doing this?" He asked. T smiled brightly, dimples popping out.

"Because you're a lot of fun and I live to fuck people's plans up. It's thrilling." T exhaled shakily as if the excitement was making his bones vibrate.

Arata nodded, and let himself be led to the bed where T left him and then abruptly left. It took Arata a few seconds before he managed to get his thoughts in order, he hated his kidnappers but T just threw a total curveball at him. Just then he heard someone shout and a bunch of chaos outside his door, however before he could get up and move to the door it opened suddenly and someone he noticed as Fujio's friend busted inside the door.

"Arata, let's go!" He screamed.

Arata nodded and hurried to stand up, throwing his shoes on and following the stranger outside into a total ruckus. Chairs were being thrown and people were grappling with each other everywhere, some of them Arata notices as Tsukasa and Jamou- he was currently getting beat up by two guys.

"Arata!" Fujio shouted over the chaos, and Arata looked around for him, seeing his usual slicked back hair in the crowd. "Arata! Come on, let's go! Let's go home." Fujio yelled, dodging people left and right as he made his way to Arata. The words resonated in Arata's heart and he felt the emotion of longing and loneliness clog his arteries, every piece of him desiring to be helped, to have someone on his team.

Fujio grabbed Arata's hand and barrelled through everyone to get him out, throwing chairs and flipping tables- glass flew everywhere, Arata even felt some in his hair and on his clothes, but the pain meant nothing as Fujio led him outside, called the others to retreat… and took him home on Fujio's bike.

Arata held on tightly, tears staining Fujio's shirt to the point he could probably feel them on his skin. Arata didn't mind, crying on Fujio as they sped off with the sound of others following them- probably a mixture of Fujio's friends and Arata's captors' men. Fujio saved him.

. . .

Fujio held tightly to Arata as they both walked into Harasawa Market, Yuki gasping and the others cheering loudly with greetings of love and gratitude. Fujio proudly stood with one of his brothers in front of his family, smiling brightfully when he realized he had his family together again.

Arata was home now. And everything would be okay.

. . .

"Why did you let him go again?"

T sighed, leaning back in his chair as he thought about his answer. "Well…" Yuta waited in anticipation, aching for his mysterious partner to reveal some part of himself. "I wanted to see what his friends are capable of. And… they didn't disappoint, I had quite a fun time watching it." T cackled and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it before taking a long drag.

Yuta gaped. "That's all?" T nodded. "No way, I thought you were suddenly into dudes, and had a thing for him. But this is so unsatisfying, damnit."

"Haha, Yuta, you got a lot to learn." T stood and left the room, leaving a bewildered Yuta behind. Just what the hell is he mixed into?

The end.

. . .

How was it? Let me know!

#MaekawaArata #HanaokaFujio #high&low #high&low:theworst

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s-w-o-r-d-alliance · 4 years ago

Text

[Maekawa Arata- High & Low: The Worst] Not the Person You Used to Know

Hello, this is my first High & Low fanfic. I've written fanfiction before, but never about a japanese movie franchise like this, I look forward to it. Please enjoy!

Synopsis:

An AU in which Fujio can't save Arata. His friend who he's always seen as a brother couldn't go back. He would never be the same.

Or, Arata leaves with the bag of money, desperate to save his mother the only way he knows how- despite the consequences that would follow.

TW: Drugs, abuse, vulgar language.

....

Screams and howls of laughter echoed throughout the beaten up buildings. Arata blinked the blood from his eyes, senses meshed up into a mess of too much light and too much noise, his ribs were also throbbing. A never ending pain that clashed against his nerves, fraying them until he couldn't make sense of anything. Fists and feet kept crashing into him, he gagged as someone kicked him in the head and his vision went blurry for a second.

He panicked thinking that he had went blind until a shoe to his gut made his body jolt and he could see clearly again. Someone giggled, high and nasty in their throat as Arata felt his consciousness slipping from his hands.

Why was he so stupid? When did things become so bad? So hard to control? A faint voice in the back of his head told him it was his fault. He was gonna die, here in a drug factory, and his mother would die because she had no one else. No one would take care of her.

Arata cried out in agony when someone stepped on his ankle. He twisted away, trying to breathe and gain an upper hand. They continued on anyways, and told him he was nothing- he didn't matter. No one would investigate for him if he died somewhere in a ditch, they'd write him off as a junkie runaway and throw away the body.

The pain got worse and he couldn't fight anymore. No one would care anyway, so he gave up. He let the darkness take over and slipped into nothing.

. . .

The men around him screamed and yelled, someone was shouting in the distance- it sounded like Minami yelling something about Redrum. Arata didn't pay much attention as some of the lackeys around him started gulping down Redrum, cackling soon after the drug takes effect. Most of the room emptied out and Arata heard fighting- glass and metal hitting the windows and walls. Looked like Oya High came for revenge. He tried to stay as still as possible while some men hid and waited for someone to enter.

It seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes before he heard the men run into the brawl outside. Adrenaline shifted through his body and he took advantage of whoever was kicking their asses to stand up. His body swayed before he realized he wasn't too badly hurt- just bruises and aches mostly. Nothing felt broken, he decided as he tried to move his stiff muscles.

He saw a black bag and hurriedly grabbed it, running to the safe that was perched open like someone left in a hurry. Arata's hands trembled as he held the big wads of cash in his hands, he stuffed as much as he could in the bag and didn't stop until someone came into the room.

"Arata!"

Arata felt shame curl into his stomach, but quickly shook it off as he thought of his mother sitting in that hospital by herself- alone and dying and wishing someone was there or for someone to save her from her pain. She'd look out the window and hope her son would come back, Arata held back the tears at the image.

Arata looked at Fujio, then continued. Fujio stalked over and pushed him from the safe, hands gentle despite the force of the shove. Arata refused to look, though, into those eyes that would hold pity. "What the hell are you doing?" Fujio demanded. Goddamn it, just leave me alone, Arata thought viciously. Instead of saying it he pushed Fujio, harder than he intended, into the wall and continued putting the cash in there.

Arata tried to walk away, pushing Fujio to the side, but Fujio threw him and the bag on the ground. Arata didn't pause, instead scraping the money up and back into the bag, desperation clawing through him. Fujio kept telling him to throw the filthy money away, to burn it and the reason behind its existence. But Arata couldn't, everything would mean nothing. All of this pain and effort and running from his friends, pushing them away and hurting them would mean nothing if he didn't take what he was owed. He deserved this money.

"This is none of your business." Arata seethed.

Fujio blocked the exit, got into Arata's face and threw him against a support beam. "Your business is my business!" Fujio growled.

Things went downhill from there, Arata and Fujio fought. Arata felt the weight of every punch in his heart. Knew he was doing wrong, but he couldn't stop. Shame rolled around in his stomach, made him lag as he and his best friend hurt each other.

"Why are you here?" Arata cried out.

"I'm here to bring you back. To bring you home."

"I wish everyone would just leave me alone!" Arata screamed.

Minutes go by as Fujio and Arata grappled with each other. Pain and anger drove Arata to keep going, tears and shouts of anguish threaded through the silence of Hope Hill. Memories of talking to Grandma Sada and having curved cucumbers on hot summer days flashed in Arata's mind, disgust at his own behavior overshadowing those beautiful things and covering them with mud and filth.

"You're happy doing this crap for your mom?"

Arata felt fury like no other, sending a scathing look towards Fujio. Who the hell said he could talk about his mother? What the fuck did he know? "Fuck off!" Arata yelled, landing a punch to Fujio's face and tussling with him until exhaustion wracked his bones and his muscles ached with strain.

"You can hit me with those pussy fists all you want... But they don't hurt a bit." Fujio whispered, holding onto Arata and pleading with him to come back. To be the Arata that he used to be, smart, funny and loving to his friends. The good Arata that his friends loved.

But Arata knew it was too late. And stopped, as Fujio tore him down until Arata was on his knees. Fujio cried out and brought his arm back to land the last blow. Arata looked up into his friend's eyes and waited for the pain, the regret and repulsion.

But it didn't come, Shinya stopped Fujio before his fist could meet flesh and bone. Arata looked around, saw the damage he caused, the Redrum spilled across the floor like the trash it was. People groaned outside, some shouting out curses and others crying and pleading for help. He felt the opening of emotions like the cap of a bottle popping off. Anguish caused overwhelming sadness and fear to cover his heart, twisting around and curling into something nasty. Something awful and horrid.

Arata cried out, sobbing as images of his mother dying, her pain and Grandma Sada holding out a warm, callused hand to him. A tiny Fujio holding onto his hand and pulling him towards Hope Hill. Their home.

Arata cried for who knows how long, Shiny and Masaya holding an exhausted Fujio in their arms, a warm hand on Arata's back.

"Will you come home...?" Fujio whispered, Arata's heart broke at the question. He wanted to say yes, to let go and hold onto Fujio's warm hands and loving aura. He wanted to be held, to be loved and to let the weight and stress roll away. But he couldn't, not after all he did. All the bad things he did, selling drugs to kids younger than him, pushing people around and watching as women were forced to push drugs and sell their bodies. He didn't deserve the warmth that kids of Hope Hill would offer.

"No. It's-It's too late for me to turn back, Fujio." Arata stood on shaky legs wincing and holding his arm- " Wai-let me go, Shinya!" Fujio struggled, body sluggish and fatigued.

Shinya was holding Fujio tightly, face grim and stony. "You can't force him, Fujio. It's his choice... But he has to live with the consequences of what he's doing." Those last words were directed at Arata, soft and stern as they laid their weight in his mind. They were also a warning. No one could save him, now.

Arata was crying as he slumped over the spilt money, picking it up and throwing the bag over his shoulder. His lip trembled as he walked past his brothers, his life-time friends, and out the door. Stepping over knocked out pushers, he stumbled down the stairs and walked the walk of shame as the fight had ended- Housen and Oya High triumphantly resting in odd places, people judged him as he passed by. It looked like the Kanehira brothers' men were all done, some people that Arata noticed were from Housen and others that were from Oya High stared at him.

"Arata! You stop right there." Fujio shouted, and Arata turned seeing Fujio hanging off the second floor balcony. "You-you aren't thinking right. After everything we've been through, all the hardships and being thrown away, you think you can just walk out?" Arata ignored him, stumbling towards the broken down gate.

"One of you stop him-"

"Ahhhhh!" Arata yelled out, throwing the bag of cash on the ground and seething with pent up anger and stress. "Stop. Just-I just want to be left alone. Can't I control my life? Can I not make my own decisions?" Arata was shouting at this point, pulling his hair and pacing as sobs tumbled from him. "Let me choose, for once. All my life I've been tossed around, pitied and hurt and never had a choice! I want a choice!" Arata pointed at his friend, not giving the people around him any thought.

"Fujio..." Arata pleaded, voice torn and broken with spent emotions. "This is my choice. Don't take it from me."

Fujio cried silently, watching as Arata made a decision that would change his life forever.

And Arata left, leaving behind all those that had cared for him.

. . .

Part 2? Let me know!

And yes, this may be a bit different than the fight scene, but I didn't want to just make you read the same thing over and over again, and I didn't want to copy and paste the whole scene. That's rude and unoriginal! So I wanted to make this more realistic. In real life, Arata probably would have ignored Fujio- he would be thinking of his mother instead of his own life. He'd probably want to take responsibility for his actions, right?

Part 2

#high&low #japanese drama #MaekawaArata #FujioHanaoka

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