#technically they're not together but it's meant to be doysumi so imma tag it

[pinkandgreenarepurpleandyellow]

I know there’s still a lot of shit happening, and I’m aware that we need to remember the protests  haven't stopped, but today was an especially good serotonin day, so I finally pushed myself to finish this three month-old thing, and now I’m posting bc i have no impulse control.

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”There’s the signal.”

”Yeah.”  Fuck that.

Oh sure it’s a life changing opportunity, a new hope, a second chance, but for some reason Doyle would rather stay here.

Next to him Katsumi turns and pats him on the shoulder, a small half-smile shinning on his face. Ah. That might be a reason.

“Katsumi-” He starts, cutting himself off. It’s not possible. They’ve known each other for less than a week. He’s still a fugitive, he has no contacts, no money, no place to stay, and Unchained is still very much after him. But he wants to stay. He wants to leave the job behind, he wants a new home, he wants- he wants to be around people he can get to know beyond the usual discreet suitcase or credit card, beyond being on one or the other side of a gun.

He can’t though. It’s not something assassins can have.

“Yeah?”

He forces his voice to stay even. “Nothing, just -” I think I like you after just a week, I can't ever repay you for this, you’re pretty cute under this light, I don’t want to leave, “thank you. For everything, I mean. The food, the medicine, and the trip. I owe you.” Forever, his mind adds silently.

Katsumi’s smile fades into a concerned frown, and he brushes Doyle’s shoulder with his own - fuck that’s the first time in years anyone’s touched him without violence being involved - as he speaks. “You don’t owe me anything, Doyle,” his hand is swinging closer and closer to his, “I organized this of my own free will, because I wanted to. You deserve a-” why is his voice hitching like he’s about to say something else before he changed his mind - “You deserve a second chance, just like anyone else would. You’re not as bad as you think, an-and it’d be easier for you to start a new life somewhere they can’t find you.” I should leave, Doyle thinks to himself, it’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me, and it’s the world’s biggest favor, and , and-

He doesn’t want to leave. Doyle may not know every aspect of the local culture, but he speaks the language, gets the economy, and with a skillset like his, he could easily get a job in any field. It’d be a new life, a real change, a- A fugitive on the run with no official documents, no actual job prospects, and a death penalty waiting. Not an option.

Katsumi’s sharp turn to face the ship take him out of the train of thought and he watches as the captain suddenly starts flicking the lights of the cabin on and off. Doyle doesn’t know what that means, (or why the idiot doesn’t just use morse code or better yet, simply come out and shout down), but Katsumi’s face hardens.

“There’s a threat on board,” he’s backing away and pulling Doyle with him as he speaks. “It’s Yanagi! Look!” Doyle can now see the shape Katsumi was pointing at, the short and distinct silhouette clearly visible with the lights on. The deadly aura, and the stench of fresh blood mixed with old metal confirm it.

He’s not sure why they’re running away instead of taking Yanagi on together, but Katsumi practically throws Doyle into the drivers seat and chucks the keys at him before flipping over the car and into the shotgun. Instincts kick in. Years of training and being in intense situations have his reflexes following through without question, and Doyle only realizes that he’s done anything when he makes a sharp turn left away from the pier and the tires screech against the pavement. Katsumi’s looking trough the rearview mirror, but slumps in relief. No visible pursuer then.

“Merde, lousy figlio di puttana, dickhead, shove it up his own-” Doyle keeps the rest of the curses in his head, muttering what he can’t through gritted teeth. Right when he was about to finally leave that freak has to show up and ruin it. The hell was his deal anyways? Doyle did some research after he’d found the other four, and this guy seemed to be revenge motivated and not associated with the Shinshinkai. Katsumi probably hadn’t fought him, and the odds of a death row convict deciding to just hijack a boat for no foreseeable reason were laughable. So Yanagi was most likely after either him or Katsumi.

Like he’d read Doyle’s mind, Katusmi speaks. “Was that guy after you? Did you do something to him to get him pissed at you?”

“Nah.” It comes out sharp. Doyle wants another smoke. No smoking while you’re driving, his mind plays back the drilled-in lesson again, the car will reek, the light will be visible, and you either deal with the smoke clogging up your vision and breathing or open the car and beg to be shot. Later. “Best guess? He thinks I broke some weird ‘honorable rule’,” he makes the quotes with his right hand before returning it to the steering wheel, “because I decided to change and accept that you defeated me. Old people get like that about honor sometimes.” He knows it the wrong thing to say, but it’s true. It’s why he went to Japan in the first place, plenty of badasses with a code of honor and a too-large ego. Piss off the right guy, have him kill you. If he fails, kill him, find new guy, rinse and repeat. If they don’t kill you for reasons that aren't weakness, taunt them until they snap.

Thankfully Katsumi is a better person than him and mutters a “Makes sense,” at him instead of starting up an argument. He drives in pointless dodges and turns and alleyways for a while until he’s sure it’s safe, and then Katsumi gives him directions back to his apartment.

They get there. He gets out and, on some old and long-buried instinct, moves to open the door for Katsumi before the karateka gets out on his own.

“I texted dad while you were driving, and he said he was grabbing Shibukawa and going there as soon as he could. The police report was playing on the tv screens a street back or so, and they showed a picture of Yanagi  with a broken neck and missing his right arm, still on the boat.” Katsumi walks up the stairs as he talks and Doyle follows, unsure of what else to do. “So I’m guessing either they got there on time, or someone beat them to it. Either way, Yanagi’s not a threat anymore.” They’ve reached the landing, and Katsumi holds his hand out, presumably to get the key ring back from Doyle. He hands it over and chokes out the goodbye.

“Well, see ya around, I guess.” He’s trying very hard to not pretend that he isn’t just the slightest bit crushed about not being able to stay when something grabs his wrist.

“Wait, Doyle! You still don’t have a-” whatever he wants to say, Doyle doesn't wanna hear it. He turns away and keeps trying to walk down the stairs.

“I’ll find something or someone to get me out of Japan. Probably be gone by morning.” He tries to shake the hand off. It doesn’t budge. Stupid guys who have stupid grip strength and their stupidly effective and nice muscles.

“Just hang on, you idiot!” Suddenly Katusmi pulls him back hard enough that Doyle either risks dislocating his shoulder or stumbling back, so he chooses the latter. “We don’t know where Sikorsky is yet, and for all we know he’s after you too. Look,” his voice finally lowers to a reasonable volume that won’t wake the entire neighborhood, “just come in for half a minute, okay? I just gotta make a phone call to check that it’s safe, and then you can leave on your own if you want to, or stay here until we can reschedule stuff and get you on a boat to the Middle East again. It’s won’t take longer than a minute, Doyle. Please?” How the fuck does he do puppy dog eyes like that? Better question, how does Doyle feel himself falling to the them?

“One minute,” he says as calmly as he can when all he wants to do is either leave or stay forever. “One minute, and then I’m gone.” Katusmi nods, unlocks the door, and walks in. Doyle follows, and despite everything they just said about the one minute thing, copies Katusmi’s actions of taking off his shoes. A drink is thrown at his face and Doyle is shocked enough by the fact that this is happening to just open the drink and start sipping instead of realizing it’s intentions.

Katsumi is speaking to what sounds like first one, then two, then five people  as he paces, (and the static from the phone when he’s not the one yelling suggests at least one person is speaking to the other people over their own phone), his speech getting faster and faster until Doyle has a hard time distinguishing most of it. He catches bits and pieces of what sounds like legal jargon though, like they’re negotiating a deal. Something involving jail, prisoner, transportation, papers, parole, psychiatry visits, Hector  - Hold the fuck up.

Jail. Prisoner. Parole. Hector. Those are not words that should be involved in a conversation asking where Sikorsky is. Scratch that, there should not be this long of a conversation, or with this many people, for asking where Sikorsky is. Or all of the other legal crap in there. What is Katsumi doing?

Finally, an eternity of thirteen minutes and sixteen-and-a-half seconds later, Katsumi speaks at a normal volume, bids a formal goodbye over the phone (probably didn't even realize he was bowing as he did so), and then he’s turning to Doyle with a weirdly happy expression on his face.

“What’s Sikorsky’s status?” he asks.

“Well,” Katsumi sheepishly looks away for a second, “it’s complicated. See, first i called dad and he said he didn’t know and he asked Shibukawa, and he also didn’t know, but then Tokugawa was in the same hallway or something and heard them and started talking, and he was saying some stuff that he had planned for Sikorsky so apparently he’s out there somewhere, but Jack and Gaia are gonna pay him a visit soon so that’s all good.”

“Great, bye.” Doyle stands up and moves to get his shoes back on, but Katusmi has other plans because he grabs Doyle’s arm and keeps talking.

“Thing is, it turns out that Unchained was stopping by that hospital because he wanted to talk to Kureha about something, I think they were at the hospital cause that’s where Kureha usually is, anyways, and they talked about how he was gonna pick up Sikorsky and then you, and then dad and Tokugawa started talking, and somehow between everything the four of them phoned the director of that prison you broke out of and long story short, they pulled some strings and you’re not on death row anymore. So you don’t need to leave!” Doyle blinks.

What. the. fuck?

His first words to this are the more eloquent, “Not on death row?”

 Katsumi takes this as a cue to keep talking.

“Yeah, well there’s conditions and that sort of stuff. You have to stay with one of the approved people from Unchained’s list, to make sure you don’t go all assassin-y on innocent people, you gotta visit a special psychiatrist-slash-therapist once a week to help you settle in, and any new crimes will get you thrown into jail no matter what they are, but yeah. Other than that, it’s just some paperwork and stuff.”

“Just to double check, I,” Doyle motions at himself, “can stay here,” waving a hand vaguely to encompass all of Japan, “because your,” poking a finger at Katsumi’s chest, “dad is friends with Unchained and they “pulled some strings”?” he makes the air quote around the last part as obvious as he can because no. This can’t be real. That’s not how things work. Apparently, no one informed Katusmi of this.

“Yep!” he almost chirps the affirmation out as Doyle’s already confused  and fragile worldview crumbles in it’s entirety. His entire record, gone as long as he kept obeying the law. A new life. No more death sentence. No more prison.

Deep breath in, he coaches himself through the internal crisis, deep breath out. Right. Okay. He can work with this.

“So,” Katsumi immediately looks back at him, nodding to show he’s paying attention, “Who’s on the list of people I can stay with, and how many of them are already warned?” It’s close to two am, but he can pick the locks, and all he needs is a name to find their address. Katsumi starts talking, listing the names off on his fingers as he speaks.

“Well there’s dad, but he’s still paranoid after what happened to mom, so that’s out. Jack would be okay but we’re not sure if he even has a home, and nobody called him yet. Shibukawa knows but this isn’t the best way for you to meet him, Baki got ruled off the list because he’s too young, Yujiro’s too crazy and would kill you, Unchained vehemently refused to even consider hosting you temporarily after you broke into the station, and Tokugawa claims you ‘concern him’, so that just leaves Strydum, and me. So either you can stay here or-” he trails off. Doyle almost snorts inwardly because Yeah, like that’s a hard choice.

“If you’re okay with it, could I stay here?” Katsumi’s face lights up the same way it did back at the docks, and Doyle feels his heart skipping a very small beat.

“Of course! Grab something form the fridge, I’ll get a spare futon for you in a sec, and sure. We’re gonna have to think about the rest of the stuff in the morning though, but I know a guy for the psychiatry thing, dad was visiting him in the hospital in the first place, and then there’s paperwork, and Im balls at that kinda stuff, and-” Katsumi’s words blur as he keeps moving and talking, but Doyle nods along, a small smile finding its way onto his face. He’ll get through this. He’s got nobody chasing him, a future therapist to talk to, and Katsumi to help him if anything goes wrong.

This, Doyle thinks as Katsumi moves on to talking about how Doyle will love his friends, might just work out.