Chapter Text
Prologue
As the dark warehouse started to brighten with the first light of the day, Kashima hadn't even had a chance to rest his eyes. The first rays of dawn crept through the grime-streaked windows, casting long shadows across the cold, concrete floor. He had spent the entire night tracking the young man's vital signs, his weary eyes scanning the scattered medical equipment. The gentle patter of dewdrops was the only sound in the eerie silence.
Gaku's values had finally started to normalize after days of uncertainty. The beeping of the heart monitor was less erratic now, a small sign of hope in the dimly lit space. Nearly a week had passed since the harrowing events at the exhibition, and they had been stuck in this desolate, abandoned warehouse for what felt like an eternity.
Kashima didn't even remember how they had ended up in that warehouse. His memory was hazy, like a foggy dream. The last thing he recalled was Gaku lying motionless, his body seemingly lifeless on the floor. Just a millimeter, a millimeter that had kept him from death. Takamura, with his precise aim, was not one to miss, and there was clearly something else at play here. The circumstances felt like a subtle twist of fate. He had wandered for hours, with desperation mounting as he searched for a safe place, finally stumbling upon this abandoned warehouse, a place of refuge and desolation.
God must have wanted the young man to live. The thought was almost absurd in the face of their dire situation, but it was the only explanation Kashima could cling to. Gaku had clearly used up all the chances given to him, and Kashima had to ensure that he didn't waste the last of them. He had run out of all his lives; there was no change of making even a single mistake anymore. And now, it was Kashima’s obligation to ensure that the boy would not put his life at risk in the future. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on him. The task of protecting him had fallen squarely on Kashima’s shoulders.
Kashima pulled out the crumpled note from his jacket pocket. He read the note by the light came through the window, the ink slightly smeared. “Protect him. Keep him away from me.” The two-sentence note was from Uzuki. Kashima let out a frustrated curse under his breath. He knew Uzuki valued Gaku above all else, and the request to keep him safe from himself was both a burden and a directive. The reason for this was a question Kashima had asked himself over and over, but he found no satisfactory answer.
He was unsure of how to protect Gaku; with the boy in his current state, all he could do was tend to his wounds. But protecting Gaku seemed impossible—he hadn’t been able to prevent Gaku from slipping away while at the exhibit, and now he was in an even more precarious condition. Gaku would wake up soon, and Kashima was sure that eventually, he would find a way to escape from Kashima's grasp.
After days of contemplation, he had accepted a single option, a single way out. For himself and for the young man. He knew Uzuki would not approve, but he had resolved to act despite the consequences. Because Kashima knew only one person who could protect Gaku besides Uzuki. With a heavy sigh, Kashima took out his phone and hesitantly dialed Sakamoto’s number.
---1---
The young man slowly opened his eyes. The pain radiating through his body made it difficult to move. He had no idea how long he had been asleep; if someone told him it had been five days or five years, he would have easily believed either. The room had a gloomy atmosphere, and the air was thick with the musty smell of dampness. As he shifted his gaze from the moldy ceiling, he saw Kashima slumped in a corner, his head nodding as he dozed. Seeing a familiar face brought him a small measure of comfort. Despite the unbearable pain in his body, he attempted to sit up on the thin mattress he lay on.
“Gaku? Are you awake?” Kashima’s voice cut through the silence, soft but urgent.
Gaku struggled to move but was unable to lift himself. He sank back onto the uncomfortably thin futon mattress. A faint sound of acknowledgment escaped his lips.
Kashima was immediately at his side, his concern palpable. “My God, I've been waiting for you to wake up for days,” he said, his voice thick with relief and worry.
“Where are the others?” It took Gaku several minutes to ask that.
“Now is not the time to worry about that,” Kashima replied. “Your wounds haven't healed completely yet.”
“What happened to me?” Gaku asked weakly, his voice hardly more than a whisper.
“Well, I guess you barely escaped death, for the second time.”
The last thing Gaku remembered was his attack on Takamura at the exhibit. He had no recollection of what happened afterward, and the image of Haruma's lifeless body lingered in his mind. He wasn’t sure if Uzuki and Kumanomi were alive. Despite his desperate desire to get up and do something, his body was unresponsive. He lacked the strength even to reply to Kashima.
Eventually, he gave up fighting his physical state, and the world faded to black once again.
“Why did you call me here, Sakamoto? Do you want us to be killed side by side? If so, I won't be mad,” Nagumo said, his voice laced with both irony and curiosity.
Sakamoto was acting more oddly than usual. He had been avoiding eye contact as if guilty. Normally, he would never hesitate to talk in front of Shin and Lu, but for reason, he had insisted on talking privately, which only piqued Nagumo’s curiosity more.
“I need your help with something, Nagumo. I hope you’ll help me for the sake of our friendship,” Sakamoto finally managed to string a sentence together, his tone pleading with desperation.
“What is it? You've been squirming since I got here. Let’s get one thing clear, I can’t disguise you as Tom Cruise.” Nagumo quipped.
“Let’s put the joke aside, I'll get to the point,” Sakamoto said, sliding his hands into his pockets, a gesture of relaxation. “Do you remember Gaku?”
“The silver-haired guy who died at the exhibit?” Nagumo’s eyes narrowed at the mention. There were few who had impressed him with their fighting skills, and Gaku was one of them.
“Yes,” Sakamoto said, his voice wavering slightly. “But, well… He didn't die.”
“What?”
It seemed impossible that anyone could survive those injuries.
“I know, it's hard to believe, but Mr. Kashima took good care of him after getting him out of the exhibit. Plus, that guy has an incredible constitution. I'm sure you’ve noticed that yourself.”
Nagumo gave a slight nod. Despite his surprise, he felt a touch of relief. Gaku’s survival meant that his potential was not lost yet, which would have been a significant waste.
“Anyway, what does this have to do with me?”
“Well,” Sakamoto said, looking up as if searching for the right words. “I want you to look after him for a while.”
Nagumo suddenly burst into laughter. Sakamoto remained serious, his demeanor unyielding.
“Nice joke, bud,” Nagumo said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
“You know I'm not joking.”
“You can't seriously be asking me to babysit a grown-ass man.” Nagumo crossed his arms, his face was showing disbelief.
“Think of it not as babysitting but as a witness protection. If the JAA learns he's alive and gets to him before we do, they'll use him as leverage against Uzuki, we both know that.”
“What will we use him for, then?”
“As leverage against Uzuki, of course,” Sakamoto said, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.
Nagumo’s pupils twitched slightly. “How long will it take?”
“Until we find Uzuki's location.”
“God, why don't you protect that twerp yourself?” Nagumo grunted.
Sakamoto took his hands out of his pockets and shrugged. “You know, I already have a family to protect.”
Breaking the brief silence, Nagumo asked, “So, where is this guy?”
“He's hiding in a warehouse with Mr. Kashima. I'll send you the location.”
“Alright,” Nagumo said, heading for the door. “This better end well, Sakamoto.”
Sakamoto managed to shout, “Could you also consider the Tom Cruise matter?” as Nagumo walked away. The last thing he saw was Nagumo’s middle finger raised in the air.
Since regaining consciousness, Gaku had been lying with his hands clasped under his head, staring at the ceiling. The warehouse was suffocating and cold, with the only light filtering through grimy windows. Despite feeling somewhat better, Mr. Kashima was certain about not letting him leave, and all Gaku could do in this desolate space was sit idly. His attempts to pry information from Kashima had also been in vain.
“Mr. Kashima, since you won't let me go,” Gaku said, sitting up with a pained groan. “at least do something to entertain me.”
“What do you have in mind?” Kashima said, sounding exasperated.
“I don't know, maybe if you had a game console instead of an ice cream machine, it wouldn't be that bad.”
“I’ve told you before, that wasn’t my idea—”
Irritating Mr. Kashima had lifted Gaku’s spirits a bit. Just as he was about to continue, a noise coming from outside the room interrupted him.
“What was that?” Gaku whispered, his voice tense.
Kashima gestured him to be quiet. “I'll check it out. Don’t even think about leaving this room.”
“But—”
Kashima was already gone.
Gaku reflexively reached for his weapon but realized he lacked the strength to wield it. Instead, he pulled out a folding knife from his pocket. It was better than nothing. He stood up as he heard footsteps approaching the room. Since the footsteps were not Mr. Kashima’s, it was likely one of the JAA members coming to finish him off. He positioned himself to the right side of the door, waiting for the footsteps to get closer.
As soon as the figure entered the room, Gaku swung his knife with all the strength he could muster. The man in front of him deftly dodged the blade with a swift and smooth movement.
“Hey, take it easy.”
“You…” Gaku’s eyes widened as he recognized the man. “You’re the tattooed guy from the museum.”
Gaku was still holding the knife in a threatening position.
“Hello again,” Nagumo said with a broad smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to kill you this time.”
“What the hell are you here for, then?” Gaku took a step closer to him.
“I’m here to watch over you, I guess?”