Black and Gold
a shorter
It was unexpectedly awkward after the party. Hattori had expected Tenma to be tired, but not so withdrawn, so pensive. He slid his arm around the doctor, curling up around him in the bed and nuzzling the nape of his neck gently.
“What’s bothering you?” he asked quietly, letting his lips brush the other’s neck, knowing it tended to relax him.
Tenma let out a breath, shrugging some. “Ah… nothing really.”
“Nothing?” He leaned up a bit, to look at him. “You’re sure?”
Tenma turned slowly in his arms, and his eyes locked with Hattori’s. “The party was just tiring.”
“There were a few rather rude people, weren’t there?” He reached up to play with his hair gently. “I’m sorry… one would think that you wouldn’t have to deal with silly accusations anymore.”
Tenma’s eyes slid shut and he leaned into the touch. “I was prepared for that. I have been for some time. Actually, I expected to be in jail by now, so I suppose I can’t be too offended.”
“Jail?”
“Mn.” He let out a breath. “I never expected to be exonerated.”
“Why is that?” His voice was low as he ran his fingers through Tenma’s hair.
Tenma let out a sigh. “If my plans had worked, I would have killed someone anyway. What did it matter, if I went to jail for one murder, or for many?”
“..your plan?”
Tenma shook his head a little. “Was something that never came about. This is depressing talk.”
Hattori frowned slightly, frustrated with the wall that Tenma suddenly put up and wishing that he could simply force him to tell him the truth. He controlled the anger and leaned in to kiss the other’s forehead, trying to relax him. “Perhaps you should rest.”
“Yeah…” Tenma breathed in and out slowly and deeply, relaxing in his arms. Hattori watched him for a long time as the other slipped off. Eventually he pulled away from him carefully, standing.
He was wasting too much time, babying the doctor. He had work to do, he reminded himself.
----
Hattori – or Friend as he was known here and everywhere that really counted – was really an exiled god. He understood this keenly, the god’s sense of loneliness and the anger it brought.
It seemed like he could only release that here. He dragged Sada’s head back by his hair, exposing his throat, attacking it with his teeth and ensuring that the other would have to wear turtlenecks to school in the next several days, never mind the rising heat.
Sada would do anything for him. He hated that – one of the only people who he could come close to calling a friend was such a pathetic weakling that he allowed even this. He thrust into him viciously at that thought, listening to the muffled, bitten-back whimpers under him.
Things would have been different, if only they had seen him, worshipped him like they should have. If only Kenji had.
Here on the tatami floor of his room, surrounded by manga and other things from his childhood, It was almost as if they hadn’t grown up and he was still waiting for the others to come over, to discover what they had been blind to for so long. And they would, eventually – only this time they wouldn’t be playing in a grass field, and they wouldn’t be able to ignore him.
Sada cried out in earnest, and he reached up to slap a hand over his mouth, not wanting to hear it, because it just made him angrier. Continued to fuck Sada without mercy, not noticing the soft click of a camera.
Several hours later and far into the wee hours of the night, Hattori slid into bed with Tenma. The doctor was completely passed out and Hattori felt free to just look at him, thinking.
He wondered, sometimes, if Tenma was suspicious of him. He worked so much that Hattori figured it was impossible, but still… Tenma was a frighteningly intelligent person.
Perhaps he should place a spy on him.
Sliding a hand into his hair, he tugged Tenma’s head up, brushing his mouth over his. It wasn’t a tender gesture. It was more akin to his relationship with Sadakiyo. Predatory and controlling.
Sada was getting boring lately. Though technically his oldest friend, Sada had no fire and no backbone – and although he was intelligent, that didn’t seem to translate to real life. Really he was more a burden than anything.
He wondered if Tenma was pliable enough to become a replacement. The doctor was very mutable – but underneath it, Hattori had encountered steel. The doctor still hadn’t allowed him in. Perhaps it was too great a chance.
----
Johan pressed send on his phone and held it to his ear. It only rang once before Tenma picked it up.
“Tenma Kenzou” he answered it brusquely, and Johan frowned, wondering about the tension that dripped from his voice. It was almost enough to make him think that somehow the doctor knew it would be him calling – but of course that was a ridiculous thought.
“Doctor Tenma,” he said warmly, in German, knowing the doctor would recognize his voice instantly.
There was a startled pause on the other line. “Johan. What do you need?”
“I told you I’d be calling soon. I’d like the company of a familiar face.”
Tenma cut him off. “I’m working.”
“Your shift is ending soon.” He replied calmly, glad that he had charmed a nurse into giving him the information.
“You’re checking up on my shifts now?”
“I’ll be waiting outside, doctor.” He said, letting amusement creep into his voice, and hung up.
It took longer than strictly necessary before Tenma showed up, tense and a little pale. He didn’t stop walking, but he slowed and nodded to Johan, who stood gracefully and fell into step with him. “Thank you for meeting with me.”
The doctor shook his head a little. “I can’t talk long. I have plans.”
“Well, in that case, would you like a cup of coffee?”
Johan was pleased when Tenma nodded slightly, and lead him into a quiet café that was just on the corner. Going through the subdued pleasantries of getting a table and ordering before he turned his full attention on the doctor, he tilted his head, really observing him for the first time.
He was too thin. It was the first thing he thought, something that seemed strange to even dwell on. But the other man’s bones seemed slightly too sharp, his skin a little sallow even under the paleness. He didn’t look unhealthy exactly, but faint shadows ringed his eyes, and although he was well-groomed, it seemed half-hearted. Johan knew he looked worlds better now than he had while Tenma was chasing him but still he would have expected more improvement than this.
Tenma’s hands clenched tightly around the cup of coffee, and his eyes didn’t meet Johan’s. Even now, there was discomfort and suspicion – not that Johan could judge him for that. Tenma was right to be suspicious of him, a stranger with whom he had only shared despair. Johan realized with a slight shock that he didn’t know how to begin talking to Tenma, but that for once he was uncomfortable with the silence.
“You look thin.” It was the only thing he could think of, absurd as it was.
Tenma’s eyes finally darted up to his, looking about as surprised as he felt. “I… what?”
Johan maintained the eye contact, willing the other to not look away. “You look thin.”
The doctor flushed a little, awkwardness almost breaking the unbearable tension that had been in place before. “I’m fine, really.” He seemed to not really understand his own words, or rather that they were being spoken in this context, with this person.
Johan nodded just a little. “I hope you’re taking care of yourself properly. From what I’ve heard you were overworking yourself quite a bit, before.”
“Who did you hear that from?”
Johan let his smile be the slightest bit enigmatic as he shrugged. “Rumors, reading between the lines in newspapers… here and there.”
“Mn,” Tenma grunted, noncommittally, sipping his drink. “Exaggerated, I’m sure.”
“Probably. You must be happy to be home, though.”
“I suppose.”
Tenma’s tone nagged at him and he focused on it. “You suppose?”
“It’s an… adjustment.”
“You must be happy to be spending time with your family.” He prodded a little more.
“I haven’t really seen them much.” There was a different sort of wariness in Tenma’s voice, that Johan filed away for later examination.
“Ah… right. You’re dating that man you were with at the party. Living together?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer.
Tenma nodded just a little, eyes firmly back down on his cup. Johan wondered what exactly prodded the reaction. Societal shame perhaps? Fear that Johan would hurt someone else that Tenma cared about?
“How did you two meet?”
“Ah.. we went to high school together.”
“That must be nice.”
“Of course.” Tenma smiled a little but it seemed forced and ungenuine. It was strange to see an expression like that – although the meeting was tense, he wasn’t the type of person to fake feelings.
With a sigh, Johan moved the conversation on to other topics. Allowing a brief conversation about her… Nina. It was surreal, hearing about her success in school and the career she was just starting. It made him sad and he had to keep himself carefully composed.
Conversation with Tenma, unlike almost everyone else he had ever tried to know, was effortful. Perhaps it always would be. Tenma didn’t open up, didn’t automatically respond to Johan’s prompts to continue talking about himself and so he had to ask direct questions instead. Johan’s skill lay in not raising people’s defenses, normally – but Tenma’s were already up around him. Perhaps that wasn’t accurate; Tenma had walls up around everyone, only with Johan they were higher and thicker and topped with razor wire.
It remained to be seen how much of that was his fault, for what he had shared with the doctor, and how much of it was just natural for Tenma. Johan sipped his coffee slowly, after Tenma had excused himself, glancing at his watch. Their first conversation had lasted the span of a single cup of coffee, hardly fifteen minutes.
Tomorrow, he would do better.
----
Johan slid into Tenma’s office as the sun was just coming up. There was no real safe time to break into an office in a hospital. It was always busy, but this time was perhaps better than any other. At least now he knew Tenma would not be there for several hours – and with the sunlight he wouldn’t have to worry about a flashlight attracting attention.
Researching a person was a slow, methodical task. He started with the shelves, just looking over them slowly. The books all neatly arranged, Japanese and German and English. Nothing really out of place except for a couple of books on the doctor’s desk that he obviously was using.
The desk was next, piles of paperwork – patient files, scribbled research notes. Tenma’s handwriting surprisingly neat for a doctor. Johan smiled just a little at that, then looked into the trash. Raising an eyebrow, he reached into it, pulling out several pieces of ripped paper. For a moment, he just studied the tears. They were even, methodical and cold – the paper was wrinkled though, held tightly. For a long time he considered what possible emotional implications the state of the paper could have.
He laid the pieces on the desk, looking at the writing. He still wasn’t familiar enough with Japanese to tell if it was the doctor’s handwriting or not. Slowly, he moved them around, re-arranging them.
Thankfully he recognized all the kanji, reading the note slowly. Committing it to memory before he slid his hand over the desk, carefully gathering the pieces and letting them fall back into the trashcan. Taking another moment before easing the first drawer of the desk open, surveying the flotsam and jetsam of any typical office. Pens, paperclips, post-it-pads.
The next drawer contained notepads, envelopes, stamps. He flipped through them slowly, finding nothing. Shifting, Johan moved the chair back some to open the final drawer. Full of files.
Shoved into the back of a drawer was a freshly wrinkled manila envelope. Johan paused at it, pulling it out. There was no return address, just Tenma’s name and office number on it. He opened it, peeking in. It was filled with photos.
Johan turned the envelope over, spilling them out slowly, They were high-quality, probably taken with a telephoto lens. Tenma’s boyfriend’s face was clearly visible in some of them, and another man that he didn’t recognize. The photos spoke very clearly. The relationship was abusive.
He couldn’t help a sharp, angry intake of breath -- not for the man in the picture, but for Tenma. Carefully he replaced them, then slid the envelope back in his hiding place. Just thinking for a moment then sliding out of the chair, replacing it.
He looked over the office slowly, making sure that it was precisely as he had found it, then quietly slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Tenma was in danger. That much was suddenly clear. He wasn’t sure where from, precisely. The boyfriend, whoever sent the pictures. Someone would do him harm, if Johan allowed it. Of course he wouldn’t – so the first order of business would be to figure out the greatest threat to Tenma and neutralize or eliminate it.
He took the quieter halls out of the hospital, clasping his hands between his back lightly, reflecting on everything he had found out so far. The pieces would fit, eventually.
----
Johan had begun meeting Tenma regularly, though he got the suspicion that Tenma was a bit distressed by the fact. Johan learned Tenma’s schedule every week – the nursing staff was quite taken by him – and started showing up as he was finishing shifts in the afternoon and insisting on taking him out to the café.
Tenma showed late, of course – he always did, having a tendency to get sidetracked with patients. This time, however, he had a shallow gash over one eye, impossible to hide though it seemed that he had tried to tug his bangs over it.
“What happened, sensei?” Johan asked mildly, when Tenma approached him where he sat on a bench in front of the hospital.
“You’re speaking in Japanese now?” Tenma shrugged. “Nothing. A nurse left out some wires from a machine – I tripped over them and grazed the end of an exam table.”
Johan tilted his head a little – instantly distrusting that story. Tenma was never a good liar, and Johan was the best. Still, he couldn’t very well accuse the doctor of lying right away. “It’s not like you to be so graceless.”
“I’m sure I’ll never live it down.” Dryly.
“Hn.” Johan closed the book he had open on his lap, stretching a little as he stood. Deciding that he needed to get to do something today to break them out of this polite, distant holding pattern, he smiled a little “I’d rather get something stronger than coffee, today.”
Tenma looked a little startled, then wary. “There’s a bar around the corner…” The doctor started to suggest, dubiously.
Johan cut him off, though. He wanted to be alone. “I don’t like the crowds. I have some beer, back at my apartment.” He smiled a little. “It’s nearby.”
Tenma hesitated for a moment before shrugging a little. “All right, I suppose..”
Johan smiled, a relatively genuine expression. Honestly, he was rather delighted that Tenma had agreed, taking his arm lightly to lead him down the street and up to a very small apartment, above a pachinko parlor. It was one of those seedy places that rented out for cheap, and that was often paid for by the day or even by the night, though it wasn’t officially a love hotel. Johan felt at home there, though – much of his life had been spent in less-than-savory areas such as this.
The apartment was surprisingly roomy, though that was more to do with the militant cleanliness and the lack of possessions. Still, he had found that the same barrenness that tended to put people off in Germany was almost normal in Japan.
Johan let Tenma take the couch and went to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer for each of them, opening them and handing one to Tenma who smiled a little, sipping it. “Thank you.”
The conversation, like always, was light and unimportant. Johan asked about the day’s work; Tenma asked Johan about his sightseeing. Tenma stood by the window, enjoying the breeze that came in, the sunset.
“You found my sister attractive, didn’t you?” Johan spoke into a lull lazily, sipping his beer but watching him closely.
It was unexpectedly awkward after the party. Hattori had expected Tenma to be tired, but not so withdrawn, so pensive. He slid his arm around the doctor, curling up around him in the bed and nuzzling the nape of his neck gently.
“What’s bothering you?” he asked quietly, letting his lips brush the other’s neck, knowing it tended to relax him.
Tenma let out a breath, shrugging some. “Ah… nothing really.”
“Nothing?” He leaned up a bit, to look at him. “You’re sure?”
Tenma turned slowly in his arms, and his eyes locked with Hattori’s. “The party was just tiring.”
“There were a few rather rude people, weren’t there?” He reached up to play with his hair gently. “I’m sorry… one would think that you wouldn’t have to deal with silly accusations anymore.”
Tenma’s eyes slid shut and he leaned into the touch. “I was prepared for that. I have been for some time. Actually, I expected to be in jail by now, so I suppose I can’t be too offended.”
“Jail?”
“Mn.” He let out a breath. “I never expected to be exonerated.”
“Why is that?” His voice was low as he ran his fingers through Tenma’s hair.
Tenma let out a sigh. “If my plans had worked, I would have killed someone anyway. What did it matter, if I went to jail for one murder, or for many?”
“..your plan?”
Tenma shook his head a little. “Was something that never came about. This is depressing talk.”
Hattori frowned slightly, frustrated with the wall that Tenma suddenly put up and wishing that he could simply force him to tell him the truth. He controlled the anger and leaned in to kiss the other’s forehead, trying to relax him. “Perhaps you should rest.”
“Yeah…” Tenma breathed in and out slowly and deeply, relaxing in his arms. Hattori watched him for a long time as the other slipped off. Eventually he pulled away from him carefully, standing.
He was wasting too much time, babying the doctor. He had work to do, he reminded himself.
----
Hattori – or Friend as he was known here and everywhere that really counted – was really an exiled god. He understood this keenly, the god’s sense of loneliness and the anger it brought.
It seemed like he could only release that here. He dragged Sada’s head back by his hair, exposing his throat, attacking it with his teeth and ensuring that the other would have to wear turtlenecks to school in the next several days, never mind the rising heat.
Sada would do anything for him. He hated that – one of the only people who he could come close to calling a friend was such a pathetic weakling that he allowed even this. He thrust into him viciously at that thought, listening to the muffled, bitten-back whimpers under him.
Things would have been different, if only they had seen him, worshipped him like they should have. If only Kenji had.
Here on the tatami floor of his room, surrounded by manga and other things from his childhood, It was almost as if they hadn’t grown up and he was still waiting for the others to come over, to discover what they had been blind to for so long. And they would, eventually – only this time they wouldn’t be playing in a grass field, and they wouldn’t be able to ignore him.
Sada cried out in earnest, and he reached up to slap a hand over his mouth, not wanting to hear it, because it just made him angrier. Continued to fuck Sada without mercy, not noticing the soft click of a camera.
Several hours later and far into the wee hours of the night, Hattori slid into bed with Tenma. The doctor was completely passed out and Hattori felt free to just look at him, thinking.
He wondered, sometimes, if Tenma was suspicious of him. He worked so much that Hattori figured it was impossible, but still… Tenma was a frighteningly intelligent person.
Perhaps he should place a spy on him.
Sliding a hand into his hair, he tugged Tenma’s head up, brushing his mouth over his. It wasn’t a tender gesture. It was more akin to his relationship with Sadakiyo. Predatory and controlling.
Sada was getting boring lately. Though technically his oldest friend, Sada had no fire and no backbone – and although he was intelligent, that didn’t seem to translate to real life. Really he was more a burden than anything.
He wondered if Tenma was pliable enough to become a replacement. The doctor was very mutable – but underneath it, Hattori had encountered steel. The doctor still hadn’t allowed him in. Perhaps it was too great a chance.
----
Johan pressed send on his phone and held it to his ear. It only rang once before Tenma picked it up.
“Tenma Kenzou” he answered it brusquely, and Johan frowned, wondering about the tension that dripped from his voice. It was almost enough to make him think that somehow the doctor knew it would be him calling – but of course that was a ridiculous thought.
“Doctor Tenma,” he said warmly, in German, knowing the doctor would recognize his voice instantly.
There was a startled pause on the other line. “Johan. What do you need?”
“I told you I’d be calling soon. I’d like the company of a familiar face.”
Tenma cut him off. “I’m working.”
“Your shift is ending soon.” He replied calmly, glad that he had charmed a nurse into giving him the information.
“You’re checking up on my shifts now?”
“I’ll be waiting outside, doctor.” He said, letting amusement creep into his voice, and hung up.
It took longer than strictly necessary before Tenma showed up, tense and a little pale. He didn’t stop walking, but he slowed and nodded to Johan, who stood gracefully and fell into step with him. “Thank you for meeting with me.”
The doctor shook his head a little. “I can’t talk long. I have plans.”
“Well, in that case, would you like a cup of coffee?”
Johan was pleased when Tenma nodded slightly, and lead him into a quiet café that was just on the corner. Going through the subdued pleasantries of getting a table and ordering before he turned his full attention on the doctor, he tilted his head, really observing him for the first time.
He was too thin. It was the first thing he thought, something that seemed strange to even dwell on. But the other man’s bones seemed slightly too sharp, his skin a little sallow even under the paleness. He didn’t look unhealthy exactly, but faint shadows ringed his eyes, and although he was well-groomed, it seemed half-hearted. Johan knew he looked worlds better now than he had while Tenma was chasing him but still he would have expected more improvement than this.
Tenma’s hands clenched tightly around the cup of coffee, and his eyes didn’t meet Johan’s. Even now, there was discomfort and suspicion – not that Johan could judge him for that. Tenma was right to be suspicious of him, a stranger with whom he had only shared despair. Johan realized with a slight shock that he didn’t know how to begin talking to Tenma, but that for once he was uncomfortable with the silence.
“You look thin.” It was the only thing he could think of, absurd as it was.
Tenma’s eyes finally darted up to his, looking about as surprised as he felt. “I… what?”
Johan maintained the eye contact, willing the other to not look away. “You look thin.”
The doctor flushed a little, awkwardness almost breaking the unbearable tension that had been in place before. “I’m fine, really.” He seemed to not really understand his own words, or rather that they were being spoken in this context, with this person.
Johan nodded just a little. “I hope you’re taking care of yourself properly. From what I’ve heard you were overworking yourself quite a bit, before.”
“Who did you hear that from?”
Johan let his smile be the slightest bit enigmatic as he shrugged. “Rumors, reading between the lines in newspapers… here and there.”
“Mn,” Tenma grunted, noncommittally, sipping his drink. “Exaggerated, I’m sure.”
“Probably. You must be happy to be home, though.”
“I suppose.”
Tenma’s tone nagged at him and he focused on it. “You suppose?”
“It’s an… adjustment.”
“You must be happy to be spending time with your family.” He prodded a little more.
“I haven’t really seen them much.” There was a different sort of wariness in Tenma’s voice, that Johan filed away for later examination.
“Ah… right. You’re dating that man you were with at the party. Living together?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer.
Tenma nodded just a little, eyes firmly back down on his cup. Johan wondered what exactly prodded the reaction. Societal shame perhaps? Fear that Johan would hurt someone else that Tenma cared about?
“How did you two meet?”
“Ah.. we went to high school together.”
“That must be nice.”
“Of course.” Tenma smiled a little but it seemed forced and ungenuine. It was strange to see an expression like that – although the meeting was tense, he wasn’t the type of person to fake feelings.
With a sigh, Johan moved the conversation on to other topics. Allowing a brief conversation about her… Nina. It was surreal, hearing about her success in school and the career she was just starting. It made him sad and he had to keep himself carefully composed.
Conversation with Tenma, unlike almost everyone else he had ever tried to know, was effortful. Perhaps it always would be. Tenma didn’t open up, didn’t automatically respond to Johan’s prompts to continue talking about himself and so he had to ask direct questions instead. Johan’s skill lay in not raising people’s defenses, normally – but Tenma’s were already up around him. Perhaps that wasn’t accurate; Tenma had walls up around everyone, only with Johan they were higher and thicker and topped with razor wire.
It remained to be seen how much of that was his fault, for what he had shared with the doctor, and how much of it was just natural for Tenma. Johan sipped his coffee slowly, after Tenma had excused himself, glancing at his watch. Their first conversation had lasted the span of a single cup of coffee, hardly fifteen minutes.
Tomorrow, he would do better.
----
Johan slid into Tenma’s office as the sun was just coming up. There was no real safe time to break into an office in a hospital. It was always busy, but this time was perhaps better than any other. At least now he knew Tenma would not be there for several hours – and with the sunlight he wouldn’t have to worry about a flashlight attracting attention.
Researching a person was a slow, methodical task. He started with the shelves, just looking over them slowly. The books all neatly arranged, Japanese and German and English. Nothing really out of place except for a couple of books on the doctor’s desk that he obviously was using.
The desk was next, piles of paperwork – patient files, scribbled research notes. Tenma’s handwriting surprisingly neat for a doctor. Johan smiled just a little at that, then looked into the trash. Raising an eyebrow, he reached into it, pulling out several pieces of ripped paper. For a moment, he just studied the tears. They were even, methodical and cold – the paper was wrinkled though, held tightly. For a long time he considered what possible emotional implications the state of the paper could have.
He laid the pieces on the desk, looking at the writing. He still wasn’t familiar enough with Japanese to tell if it was the doctor’s handwriting or not. Slowly, he moved them around, re-arranging them.
Thankfully he recognized all the kanji, reading the note slowly. Committing it to memory before he slid his hand over the desk, carefully gathering the pieces and letting them fall back into the trashcan. Taking another moment before easing the first drawer of the desk open, surveying the flotsam and jetsam of any typical office. Pens, paperclips, post-it-pads.
The next drawer contained notepads, envelopes, stamps. He flipped through them slowly, finding nothing. Shifting, Johan moved the chair back some to open the final drawer. Full of files.
Shoved into the back of a drawer was a freshly wrinkled manila envelope. Johan paused at it, pulling it out. There was no return address, just Tenma’s name and office number on it. He opened it, peeking in. It was filled with photos.
Johan turned the envelope over, spilling them out slowly, They were high-quality, probably taken with a telephoto lens. Tenma’s boyfriend’s face was clearly visible in some of them, and another man that he didn’t recognize. The photos spoke very clearly. The relationship was abusive.
He couldn’t help a sharp, angry intake of breath -- not for the man in the picture, but for Tenma. Carefully he replaced them, then slid the envelope back in his hiding place. Just thinking for a moment then sliding out of the chair, replacing it.
He looked over the office slowly, making sure that it was precisely as he had found it, then quietly slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Tenma was in danger. That much was suddenly clear. He wasn’t sure where from, precisely. The boyfriend, whoever sent the pictures. Someone would do him harm, if Johan allowed it. Of course he wouldn’t – so the first order of business would be to figure out the greatest threat to Tenma and neutralize or eliminate it.
He took the quieter halls out of the hospital, clasping his hands between his back lightly, reflecting on everything he had found out so far. The pieces would fit, eventually.
----
Johan had begun meeting Tenma regularly, though he got the suspicion that Tenma was a bit distressed by the fact. Johan learned Tenma’s schedule every week – the nursing staff was quite taken by him – and started showing up as he was finishing shifts in the afternoon and insisting on taking him out to the café.
Tenma showed late, of course – he always did, having a tendency to get sidetracked with patients. This time, however, he had a shallow gash over one eye, impossible to hide though it seemed that he had tried to tug his bangs over it.
“What happened, sensei?” Johan asked mildly, when Tenma approached him where he sat on a bench in front of the hospital.
“You’re speaking in Japanese now?” Tenma shrugged. “Nothing. A nurse left out some wires from a machine – I tripped over them and grazed the end of an exam table.”
Johan tilted his head a little – instantly distrusting that story. Tenma was never a good liar, and Johan was the best. Still, he couldn’t very well accuse the doctor of lying right away. “It’s not like you to be so graceless.”
“I’m sure I’ll never live it down.” Dryly.
“Hn.” Johan closed the book he had open on his lap, stretching a little as he stood. Deciding that he needed to get to do something today to break them out of this polite, distant holding pattern, he smiled a little “I’d rather get something stronger than coffee, today.”
Tenma looked a little startled, then wary. “There’s a bar around the corner…” The doctor started to suggest, dubiously.
Johan cut him off, though. He wanted to be alone. “I don’t like the crowds. I have some beer, back at my apartment.” He smiled a little. “It’s nearby.”
Tenma hesitated for a moment before shrugging a little. “All right, I suppose..”
Johan smiled, a relatively genuine expression. Honestly, he was rather delighted that Tenma had agreed, taking his arm lightly to lead him down the street and up to a very small apartment, above a pachinko parlor. It was one of those seedy places that rented out for cheap, and that was often paid for by the day or even by the night, though it wasn’t officially a love hotel. Johan felt at home there, though – much of his life had been spent in less-than-savory areas such as this.
The apartment was surprisingly roomy, though that was more to do with the militant cleanliness and the lack of possessions. Still, he had found that the same barrenness that tended to put people off in Germany was almost normal in Japan.
Johan let Tenma take the couch and went to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer for each of them, opening them and handing one to Tenma who smiled a little, sipping it. “Thank you.”
The conversation, like always, was light and unimportant. Johan asked about the day’s work; Tenma asked Johan about his sightseeing. Tenma stood by the window, enjoying the breeze that came in, the sunset.
“You found my sister attractive, didn’t you?” Johan spoke into a lull lazily, sipping his beer but watching him closely.