A/N: Written for the:

Long Oneshot Competition
Diversity Writing Challenge, j34 – fic that explores memory (either dysfunction or simply someone reminiscing)

First part's Haru's perspective, and the second part is Kai's.

Only somewhat compliant with the sequel (ie. The Chapter on DragonFruit). I wound up needing to extend the timeline in between it and the main series for a few reasons, and a few other details about the hospitalisation, Kai's memories etc. are a bit different as well and then the ending decided it wanted to rewrite itself completely… so this is a hybrid extended epilogue/alternate ending but, aside from the very end, intended to still be true to the original Switch. Some of the changes may seem odd in this half, but they'll have a larger impact in Kai's perspective. And some are stray ideas (like Kai's single glove habit) that crept their way in.

For the non-Switch familiar readers from the AMF reading this, hopefully I put enough background info here for it to make sense without info-dumping on the people who are Switch-familiar.

More notes at the end. Enjoy!

when the sadness is shut away (what is left behind)
Haru's Story

.

One moment, his voice was dragging him out of the abyss, and the next his eyes over him were the abyss. The rescuer became the one in need of rescue. The comforter became the one in need of comforting -

But calling to him, holding him - none of that did any good. That one moment - where he'd passed on the secret he'd locked inside him for sixteen years... Haru had only caught the tail end of that, and missed the rest. He'd missed the internal struggle he'd vowed to watch over. He'd missed the time he'd meant - he'd promised - to protect the other. It was too late now. Screaming. Gunshots. The echo of a whisper in his ears and arms slack around him that had supported him up until just moments before. And blood running down both arms: blood pooling around them: soaking his shirt completely, and Kai's lap.

At least Kai's face was clean. Clean… but blank.

If he'd called out just a moment before - if he'd dragged himself into consciousness just a moment before - would that have been enough? All those other times, when that dark look had entered his eyes and that cruel and cold smile flittered across his face and just calling Kai's name, just his voice, was enough to bring that kind vibrant (and often clueless) expression back. But not this time. The symphony of bullets drowned out his own desperate litany, perhaps, or perhaps the bubble surrounding his partner was now too thick for anything, even his voice, to penetrate through.

He called anyway. 'Kai! Kai!' But Kai said nothing. Did nothing. Just remained slumped in the tangle of limbs they'd become when dragged out of the way, eyes open but seeing nothing.

.

There was a glimmer of a memory from sixteen years ago. 'Father, where is Kousaka-san? Why won't Kai play with me?' Childish words from a childish mind who'd read books far beyond his age but had failed to understand what slapped him in the face.

His father hadn't been there to reply, he thought. This was after he'd been hit on the head and awoken to a world where he was alone. He'd forgotten the Kousaka family completely, for sixteen years... but now those thoughts arose, as though they were memories, or memories that had lost the chance to be.

Kousaka Ren... his father's friend, confidant and the Narc sent to sniff him out. Or perhaps it was the other way around. 'They burnt it all,' Director Hiki repeated. 'Your father and Etou-kun's. That's what he said.'

And it was almost laughable, because his father would have known all along, but he'd played the role of ignorance for sixteen years... and for what? To spare them, he said: to spare his own son and the son of the friend who'd saved him - saved him so he could skirt the edges of that hell again for the next sixteen years...

That was the truth Haru had chased all this time: what had happened to his father, what had happened to his memories... and now he had the answers in his hand and they seemed so inadequate and so costly. Director Hiki looked equally weighted: the lives lost, the betrayals, and the ultimate senselessness of it all. They'd all chased something that was sixteen years dead and maybe that was the elaborate scheme necessary to take down the Ryuugen, or maybe that was a side-effect that made it slightly worthwhile. They were finished: ripped to shreds including his father who'd gotten himself wrapped too deeply in it all. But those people who'd succumbed to the drugs, to the secrets, to the deaths...

And then there was Kai who'd had the answer locked up in his mind all along. He'd dragged it out, finally, after hammering so hard at the walls that hid it that his mind splintered and only after Haru had bullet wounds in both shoulders. His retainer, guardian and weakness all in one, it seemed. How many people had told him before that he'd get that boy killed one day? Too many... though objectively it hadn't been that many at all. Akaha from the Ryuugen, in not so many words. Kai himself in a roundabout way that hadn't even been addressing him. Asakura from Section 2 after that disastrous sparring session. That paintball gun Kai shot himself in the head with because the idiot hadn't wanted to point a gun at a man he called his friend…

And I asked him if he'd die for me, like an idiot...

The saying went that you didn't know what you'd miss until it was gone. Or something like that.

.

Everyone was out of the hospital now, except for Kai. His eyes remained blank, staring somewhere in front of him. If he was sat up, he'd stare towards the wall. If he was laid down, he'd stare towards the ceiling instead. And not a flicker of anything ever passed across his face: no recognition, no focus... they may as well have been marble eyes that had swallowed sixteen long years of pain for the both of them. He'd taken that to dig out the key to save their lives - Haru's life - and now he drowned.

Now he stared listlessly in that place between true wakefulness and sleep, in a state where he wasn't getting any rest at all. And his hands were cool. A cannula crept into his elbow and fluids sluggishly crawled down the line. Mari-san had asked why they didn't give him something more substantial as well - liquid food - but the doctors said that Kai's mind was so remote from his body that even those more basic bodily functions were beyond him. Even if they fed him through a tube, his stomach slumbered. If they didn't put a catheter in, his bladder would just fill and overflow. If they didn't close and bind his eyes every night to give them respite, they'd ulcerate. If they didn't pour a bit of water into his mouth, it'd dry and crack, but if they poured too much it'd slip into his lungs and choke him without a sound. At least he still breathed without a tube or mask (and even, mostly, without the prongs) and at least his heart still beat: slowly and sluggish but steady. The heart and lungs and brain were the last things to go, normally, but in this case it was the brain that triggered it all.

There was no point in holding his hand, but Haru did it anyway. There was no point in blabbing about nonsensical things, but Haru did it anyway. In a sense, he was channelling Kai's spirit – except Kai genuinely cared for people. Haru was just backed by guilt. Sitting here because he'd promised to protect somebody and he'd failed. Sitting here because he'd promised to find somebody and he'd failed.

His father, who he'd spent sixteen years searching for, had been keeping an eye out for him and protecting him all this time. Kai, who he'd thought was weak and impressionable (and he certainly did a good impression of that, always acting the unwitting bait and dragging out the bad guys to be handled by the rest of them) but had instead been the one who saved his life - and this wouldn't even be the first time. When they'd had guns pointed at each other in Akaha's sick game... He hadn't put the pieces together quickly enough. Kai had been easy enough to pick out. His circumstances were too specific: amnesia from sixteen years ago and an uncle (who was actually his father) the dead officer that became the Narc's dirty little secret. But it was Hal himself who'd faced Sawaki numerous times and escaped with his life. He'd landed in the hospital from most of those attempts but in each it was plainly obvious that he'd been allowed to live. Statements that said: "I can kill you any time I want but I'm letting you live". Wounds that healed but left scars on both his body and his pride.

Kai was the key to Switch. He'd known that. He just hadn't realised he was a key for Kai.

Keys... So many keys. Like the one his father had given him dig into his palm now: an ornamental thing on a chain that was symbolic of his final words but of no practical use itself. Or perhaps it had a practical use, once upon a time. Was this a remnant of Switch, as well? Or some other treasure that meant something to the Kousaka family, to the boy whose family who'd died for the sake of a secret that had long since burned to death. A bonfire to burn it all: all the evidence, all the knowledge... and then sixteen years of silence in which his father reached for just under that pinnacle again, creating drug after drug and having the Narcs always on his tail and the tail of the Ryuugen until, at last, they were all destroyed.

But look at what they'd lost along the way.

'There is something you can do,' his father had told him, with his dying breaths as he'd pressed the key and chain into his hands. 'Use the word "key", and he'll forget all the sad things and wake up... but likely, he'll forget you too."

And here he was, guilty but selfish too. He had the key sin his hand but he hadn't puttered the word. He said many more and more useless words, instead.

And Kai didn't wake up.

.

Kai's bedside table grew more crowded. Flowers came and wilted and went and were replaced. Fruit baskets were likewise brought and replaced. Some things lasted longer, like the balloons. Some could last forever, like the teddy-bears by Mari. Some evaporated all too quick, like the tears, like the useless words, like the shouts and the punches on the wall that echoed and were soonafter gone. And the visitors, coming and going so that Haru could barely find a time to be alone with Kai... and no doubt the others felt the same.

And he didn't want to share his time with Kai with anyone. Least of all the aunt who had every right to blame and bar him.

He wondered how much she knew. She read the newspapers, surely. She'd have been told too, surely, about who'd killed her brother and his wife and shot their son and splintered his mind. She'd have been told, surely, about the details that had led to her nephew's (rather, adopted son) prolonged hospitalisation and the shell that lay before all of them but saw and did nothing but hang on to life.

He was being selfish by keeping Kai from all of them when he held the key in his hand. But that kind of key...

Forgetting everything sad... what would that leave? Their work was always like that. Every friendship they'd made in the Narcs. Every life they'd saved on the job. All of those were surrounded by sad memories, tainted memories: drugs and blood and betrayal and injuries and death. Would he be left with anything at all from that time? And what about all that time before. He didn't know much about Kai's life with his aunt, in the end, but the last time he'd been told to forget all the sad things he'd forgotten it all and he'd been such a happy child back then.

Now that Haru recalled, he could see the difference between then and now. The kindness that made him smile and reach out was always there, but the happiness that existed already was different from the happiness one tried to forge for themselves.

He'd called him weak but he was wrong. Trying to make one's own happiness was a strength he hadn't quite recognised up till now - and now Kai had given it up for him: for Haru's life. And now Haru knew where his own happiness lay: in Kai, in that happy picnic they'd had where they'd burnt the past and thought the bright future - only bright - awaited them.

It's not too late, his father told him. There was something he could do, even now. But what would he lose? What would Kai lose? What would everybody else Kai mattered to lose?

.

'You're Kurabayashi, right?'

He'd been caught by the aunt, after all. The uncle too, but he'd taken one look at his wife's face, murmured something in her ear, and disappeared into Kai's room, leaving the pair outside.

It was probably for the best. Who knew if Kai was listening or not, but this would not be a conversation for his ears.

'I'm Kurabayashi,' Haru confirmed. 'Kurayabashi Haru.'

'Haru,' she repeated. She looked him up and down. 'Kai has spoken about you.'

Haru winced at that, because he hadn't treated Kai particularly well and he knew it. He was harsh, and abrupt, and ran ahead doing his own thing because that was the way he worked best. Kai was different, though. He insisted on tagging along. Insisted on being there. Insisted on getting in the way… As though Haru never inconvenienced anyone. He did. He'd been attacked twice by Sawaki. He'd gotten Kai captured instead of him on at least one occasion...

And then there was Switch: what had started and ended it all.

'You're a horse who'd rather run wild on the tracks than be ridden.'

Haru blinked at that. 'Excuse me?' He wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not… But probably better to be a horse than a monkey, or puppy. Or monkey tamer. He was glad Director Hiki hadn't spread that particular nickname around, because he apparently minded it more than Kai minded being said monkey.

She shrugged. 'Kai's perspective has always been… creative,' she said, looking towards the door. 'What I heard is that the two of you made a good balanced pair, for the most part. You who refused to be helped, and Kai who offered help sometimes too freely.'

That wasn't how the conversation was supposed to go, Haru frowned. She was supposed to hate him. Blame him. Make this easier. Not harder. 'You do realise it's my fault your nephew's in that hospital bed, right?'

…yep, there was his blunt nature rearing its head. But he'd said it and now he had to follow through.

Her reaction… looked a lot like Kai's when he'd shot the shooter at Yokahama. That way he'd collapsed to his knees and shook until Haru calling his name again loosened his death-grip on the gun. It clattered harshly, in the silent echo that followed Shiba and Takei's capture: a capture coming off Kai's shot that had acted faster and more accurately than them, but to detrimental results.

Though it was only detrimental towards Kai, and that was his own mind. The inquest was just a formality. One shot had been fired from the NCD side of things and it was to incapacitate a shooter that had injured six people in seconds. If Hal had gotten his gun faster he would have shot himself. If his brain had ruled his heart like it usually did, he'd have kept his mouth shut when Kai had gotten the situation under control – but then would Kai, that other Kai with the black blown-pupil eyes and manic grin who saw him as his father, have fired a more fatal shot?

Who knew where he'd been aiming, when Hal's call could potentially have thrown his aim off. What if that shot had missed entirely? What if it had hit someone else? What if it had hit somewhere else? It didn't matter that Kai didn't recall when the shooting began, when he'd curled behind the other and caught him in a headlock and freed the gun, when he'd thrown him down and aimed… for the hand reaching towards the dropped gun, or the heart that would spill as much blood as bloodlust craved…

There were so many what-ifs. Like that sparring sessions with Section 2. Asakura had told him, then, that he'd get Kai killed one day with trying to snap him out of that detached state he drifted in to. And yet Asakura had knocked Kai out once, like that. And yet Haru still remembered the feeling of those hands, usually so gentle, wrapped around his neck and throttling him – or throttling his father through him.

Akaha's design, again, but this time they managed to get what they wanted: the truth about an illusionary drug that was now long gone.

'I can blame a lot of people,' Kai's aunt said, finally. 'A lot of people. Your father, for creating the drug. Whoever it was that started selling it on the streets, who attracted that gang. The men who killed my brother and his wife and left that poor child…' Her eyes swam. 'I won't forgive them,' she continued. 'I can't.'

His father was on that list. He wasn't.

And, of course, Kai's aunt wasn't done yet. 'And then there's my brother, who brought this sort of danger home from work and got his family involved. I didn't even know Kai knew…' The tears spilled over, but she continued talking anyway and her voice was steady. She'd had a lot of practice, it seemed, at talking through her tears.

How much of those tears were for Kai, he wondered. No wonder he had no qualms about crying in public. Now wonder he didn't see it as the weakness it was often perceived as, but wasn't.

No wonder he was so different from Haru, who rarely cried at all even when his heart was wailing deep inside. He wondered if it was his father's stoicism he picked up. Or maybe it was his loneliness: the loneliness he never cared to admit but knew was there even before his parents passed away. A natural introvert, perhaps, from a line of introverts (which his mother had always lamented to, but she was gone too quik to correct it) and he'd never tried to correct that. It seemed better, really, when his classmates never understood him and his one friend vanished into rain and a blurred memory.

Who thought that would turn out to be Kai, as well. Kai who'd managed to easily creep into his heart once more. Except he was bitter and weary and older, by then. And Kai who seemed too young and carefree and idealistic, often, to be a narcotics officer but managed to worm his way into everybody's heart anyway. It was amusing, sometimes, with Mari and Section 2...

And concerning with how easily he was tricked, sometimes. Though if Akaha was Kai's Achilles heel in the Ryuugen, then Sawaki was Haru's. Fate or coincidence, he wondered, or perhaps they were just that well-versed in human psychology. Well enough to run a drug syndicate. Well enough to dance under the heels of the Narcotics officers of at least two countries and evade them for sixteen years. Well enough to dig out memories from sixteen years ago that doctors, family and Kai himself had failed to resurrect. But not well enough to realise his father had lied to their face for sixteen years. Not well enough to realise they'd been dangled a carrot in front of their faces, all for the promise of safety they'd made amidst their crimes.

But then again, they Narcotics officers were reasonably well-versed in psychology as well. Part of the reason he and Kai worked together so often. Same reason Hiki and Kaji worked together. Polar opposites who think in different ways, interact with people in different ways, see things in different ways... and assuming they haven't stepped on each other along the way, have a much more complete picture and a more widespread impact at the end of the day than either of them working alone. It was easy to say Kai wasn't very effective as a Narcotics investigator (and maybe he'd be a better psychiatrist, but drive was always a big motivating factor and maybe fate and his lost memories had a role there as well) but truthfully, his long-term impact was probably better than the rest of them. Arresting a guy for possessing drugs doesn't have the same impact as dumping a pile of coins from a broken piggy-bank into his hands and telling him it's his son's attempt to make him happy again. It also doesn't have the same impact at yelling and threatening them, but all of them, including Kai (or the other Kai), do that. Everyone in the Matori hated drugs. Or almost everyone.

'Kurabayashi-kun.'

Aah, he'd zoned out again. She was staring at him, now, lips downturned like a teacher would when catching their student inattentive. 'I'm sorry,' he said automatically. His eyes flickered to Kai's door.
Her eyes flickered that way too. 'You must be tired.' But it was empty platitudes, because he shouldn't be any more tired than the rest of them. 'I heard about your father. I'm sorry.'

He shrugged. 'I was lucky,' he explained. 'I thought he was gone sixteen years ago.'

She frowned harder. Maybe she could hear the lie, but she didn't comment. 'I told the police to leave him alone, you know.'

He blinked at that. What did the police have to do with anything? He knew Narita and his team had participated in the raid, but it was run ou out of the Narcotics department: run by commander Hiki.

'Sixteen years ago,' she clarified. 'The ones investigating... and then one of the men who found the scene. Akimura Narita.'

Narita... so that man was more involved than they'd realised. He'd known all along... or known a little more than they had. Those cryptic whispers made a little more sense now. Haru frowned himself, because he didn't know how he felt about that. Something about Narita irritated him: that same attitude that Kai had, except tar-stained over time. What Kai could turn into, once hammered and bitter and hardened...

Though it was hard to reconcile that when Kai was stealing his cigarettes and Narita had no problem smoking in front of them and setting a bad example.

Of course, he knew he had no room to speak when he'd been smoking for years himself.

'You know him, then.' She was looking away, now, but she must have caught something on his expression. Or else he'd said something aloud. 'Kai went looking anyway. Somehow, he remembered that man. That glimpse from sixteen years ago was enough for him to think he'd find some answers there.'

'Did he?' Haru wondered.

Kai's aunt shrugged. 'It was Narita-san who told me. I'm sure he found something with the way he ran, but who knows now what it was. And whether it matters anymore, considering the floodgates that opened after.'

Floodgates... that was an apt description, Haru thought. Would it have been so sudden or so dramatic if someone hadn't been actively trying to dig out those memories? Probably not. Maybe they'd never have come out at all.

'It was always a risk,' she continued, 'when he decided to become a Narcotics officer. It was a risk telling him... and maybe we could have kept it a secret, the way it got buried. But we knew - know - Kai and at some part he'd have touched too much of the world to be able to keep something of that magnitude in the shadows.'

'It's a small world,' Haru agreed. And wasn't that unfair: by mere coincidence, somebody like Kai could have dug up something Haru himself had been actively searching for for the same length of time with no results... but that was hypothetical, and the Ryuugen had been actively avoiding him until he showed up as an officer interfering with their objective. 'I was there, you know. We'd all gone on a picnic together. Kai ran off because he was curious. I stayed because our parents told us to.' They'd been so different, even then. 'And then someone broke into our house and took my father and knocked me out and I forgot all of it until they hit me on the head again to take me to that hotel in Toukoku-kai.'

'Toukoku-kai,' she echoed. 'I wonder why there. Not that it matters, now.' Not to her, perhaps. Or it might, if Kai woke up without his memories again.

Hadn't they dawdled too long outside his room, instead of being by his side?

Something flickered across her face: something indiscernible. 'I meant to ask...' And finally, the crux of the matter: the reason her husband had left them alone, if it wasn't to be chewed out by righteous hatred. 'If he wakes up without his memories again, what will you do?'

.

What would he do if Kai woke up without his memories? Kai's aunt left him alone with that question and, really, it was the wrong question because he held the key in his hands to make that happen. A physical key, that his father had passed on to him, but also a figurative key... or maybe a doctor would figure it out eventually. There were all sorts of doctors, after all: ones who only believed in hard science, ones who experimented in little known waters or grey areas like herbal remedies (which were still far more common in Japan than the western world) and most matters of the mind fell somewhere on that spectrum. Hypnotherapy was far from mainstream, or permanent. It was old (or older than CBT which was the current trend for psychotherapy, but psychiatry as a field wasn't terribly old in and of itself) and highly subjective and memories subjected to hypnotism are vulnerable to suggestion and not likely to stand in court... but this wasn't about gaining memories. It was about losing them - and here was the obvious drawback: them coming back so suddenly and so violently that they were back to square one, essentially, as opposed to slowly building resilience to said memories, and to lose something precious along the way.

Kai would forget him. There was hardly any doubt regarding that: if he forgot Switch, he'd forget Haru as well. Who else would be forgotten? What else? All his time as a Narcotics officer? That was a pretty safe bet to make; jobs like that were never without emotional baggage to carry away. He'd already thought that - so often that it would be a surprise, now, if Kai didn't forget. But what else? He'd been an impressionable blank slate who still wound up on the natural course of chasing those memories. But a seven year old without memories was very different to a twenty-two year old like. Even Narita said it: a broken child looked different than a broken adult and he'd seen them both. He'd seen Kai be both.

He'd seen more than Haru, in the end. That stung, but that was just arrogance speaking. It wasn't like he had any more right to Kai's personal life... Though Narita had blabbed about his own past to Kai, too.

Just how much had he known? How much was mere suspicion? How many times had he thought about all this and gotten nowhere?

Seven days and Kai's condition hadn't changed at all. The flowers changed. The fruit baskets changed. Bags changed and, less frequency, the lines they went into and their dressings changed. The linens changed and the nurses rolled him to prevent pressure sores, change his gown and sponge him down so he wasn't in exactly the same place every time but none of that mattered. Nothing had really changed.

He, usually mister rational, was waiting for a miracle to take his autonomy away from him.

'I know,' he muttered to himself, leading his head thump onto Kai's mattress. It was too stiff. Too personal. Too untouched. He shouldn't bother calling it Kai's bed after all. Kai had claimed the front passenger seat in his car and his car knew it: indentations where he settled most comfortably and it just wasn't comfortable anymore of Haru was the one, for whatever reason, sitting there.
He felt the absence so keenly now that did it matter he risked losing it if he acted? He didn't have it, now, to lose, and hope... Hope was such a foolish thing, wasn't it? He'd found his father after sixteen years, only to lose him again. He'd found Switch after sixteen years, only to learn it was a ghost. He'd found a friend he didn't even know he'd lost after sixteen years, only to lose him again.

... so that answered that. He was tired of waiting. He'd given up.

Kai's hand was cool above the blanket. Kai, whose hands were usually warm from being in his pocket's or holding someone's hands... but Haru's hands were cold no matter how long they spent in his pockets. His smoking, maybe, screwing up his arteries. Or genetics. Or the bracelet of keys he had on his wrist right now.

He slipped it off his wrist and on to Kai's: a useless sentimental gesture because Kai probably hadn't even seen it (unless it was his father who gave it to Haru's father), but it was for Kai, in an abstract sense. It had always been for Kai.

The words still got stuck in his throat - but he was good at forcing out things he didn't want to say. It was the kind of thing he often did undercover, after all.
Harder was letting go of Kai's hand after that... but that was also something he often did... and often had taken for granted.

.

Kaji called a few days later. Claimed to have been camping outside Kai's door with the others but who really knew or cared. Haru hadn't been back. He couldn't go back until he knew whether or not Kai had woken up, and whether he remembered… or didn't.

And he'd already handed in his resignation letter. Kaji had no business calling him. Except he did. And complained about the resignation letter until Haru sighed and hung up and let the phone ring out afterwards.

Kaji sent a text instead. 'Kai woke up.'

He accepted the next call silently.

'Finally. You're as bad as ever on the phone.'

Fair, he supposed, seeing how many phones he destroyed on missions, how many times he'd failed to pull out on command. He wasn't the only one, of course; they all had things they couldn't let go of and decisions they'd made by themselves regardless of the consequences or the others they'd drag in (or the backup they were cutting themselves away from). He said nothing, though. Silence spoke loud enough.

'Anyway, Kai's up. Still pretty tired and lost as hell, but he's awake.' And he didn't need extra wards to showcase his relief.

Haru was relieved as well, but... 'Lost as hell?' he echoed. He'd expected it, but still... It wasn't just himself he'd sacrificed after all.

Kaji took the bait, at least. 'He's got pretty large memory gaps. Remembers bits and pieces - like Narita giving him a lollypop -' Haru couldn't help but snort at that. 'And he can sort of recognise faces. Enough to say if someone's familiar or not.'

Well, that didn't tell him much. Kaji was holding back. Holding something back. Being the worrywrat father, as Hiki sometimes said.

'He doesn't remember anything useful,' Haru surmised for himself.

'Did better than last time apparently.' Perhaps Kaji was shrugging. It was easy enough to imagine. And unnecessary. 'He didn't bluntly throw out a "ma'am, who're you?" at least. Though the sentiment was still there.'

'The same, then. About what I expected.' But the disappointment weighted on his chest anyway. Had he been clinging on to hope, even now? Pathetic. He was pathetic.

'Expected?' Kaji echoed, before his voice sharpened. And why not? Kaji was a far more experienced investigator than him. He'd incriminated himself quite neatly in front of that. Even an observant lay person would have picked that up.

'Hypnotic suggestion,' Haru explained. 'My father did the same sixteen years ago.'

There was a pause, then an incredulous echo, and then a babble that Haru almost hung up on again. But Kaji shared some personality traits with Kai and that urge to help that was often over-expressed to the point of being an annoyance as one of them. 'Is that why you resigned?' he asked, finally.

'Somewhat,' was his non-committal answer. And the rest... 'I'd found what I'd been looking for.'

'Your father... But Haru, he -'

And there was the bluntness that Kaji carried with him as well. 'I'm not coming back,' he cut the other off. 'Goodbye, Kaji-san. And congratulations on your recovery.'

He made to hang up with that, but Kaji threw a final question at him. 'Will you visit Kai?'

He didn't need to think about that anymore. 'No.' He just had to live with it.

.

Time went by. No-one from the Matori called again but other people did. Reporters and he added them to his ever-growing blocked list. Advertisements became a common annoyance as smartphones became far more mainstream than they'd been before. And then there were the numbers he should have blocked except he clung to them, much like he'd clung to hope longer than he knew was any point to: the informers that he'd no longer carry back to the Matori.
He listened to them anyway. Followed the hints he got for them. Crept down the rabbit hole and he knew this was dangerous, that he wasn't a Matori anymore and therefore couldn't rely on their backup but another part of him pointed out that wasn't the goal anymore.
And that stopped him short, because why then would he keep those contacts and chase those dealers?

Drugs. Everything came back to drugs in the end.

'Cigarettes are a drug, too. And caffeine.' Kai was stubborn about that, except he'd never say anything when Haru smoked next to him (even when secondary smoke was supposed to be worse for the lungs) or when someone brought him coffee.

'If you can't stop, you're addicted,' Narita had quoted, last they'd met. Quoted with a pocky stick dangling from his lips much like cigarettes used to. He'd been hanging onto something more than Kousaka Ren, Haru had realised then. He'd been quoting Kousaka with that statement and contradicting it these past sixteen years.

'If you can't stop, you're addicted,' Haru echoed to himself now, in the silence of his home. Why had he started smoking again? The glasses carried two different types of emotional weights, and even before that he'd liked the feel of those frames on his face... but neither of his parents smoked. Neither did the teacher he'd stayed with after that until he was old enough to stay legally alone in their family home. And he'd stayed alone.

Perhaps that was it. Smoking helped him fit in where his studious habits and sharp tongue kept him ostracised. It helped in his line of work as well...

And there was something. He needed to think about a new job. Maybe chase the chemistry aspect of his education. Maybe chase the contacts he hadn't thrown away and turn that into a livelihood.
That was a fine line he was dancing, and he knew it. The difference between the Matori and the lay person slipping into the ranks were twofold: they were protected from law and their agency, and they were working towards the eventual goal of arrest regardless of what they do along the way.

Or maybe that wasn't a fair assessment. He didn't know what Shiba's punishment turned out to be, for conspiring with the Ryuugen despite it being the key to rescuing him and Kai and loping off the organisation's head. And Haru didn't know what would be better, because Shiba was also the one who'd knocked Kai out in the first place.

But Shiba didn't matter anymore. Kai didn't matter anymore either - they weren't partners anymore, and Kai was essentially a blank slate now - but he still clung on to him...

Like he'd clung on to his father for sixteen years. And it probably would take meeting Kai face to face and seeing the blank look and hearing those inevitable words of unrecognition before he could let go. That need for closure...

It was almost laughable, that he'd stumbled onto this path leading there of all of them. DF - the so-called "dragon fruit" in his back pocket, burning a proverbial hole. The remnants of a drug gang he'd hunted for sixteen years along with his father's ghost but Sawaki and Akaha were both dead and so was the so-called heir so who was it now that fed the shadow? Mimics? Someone trying to drag it out when it already had one foot in the grave? And maybe he could have fooled himself into thinking that to be his primary motivation - but there were other theories that had already taken root and he'd never been good at working out the deeper intricacies of his soul. He was a man who understood and worked with destinations. The end justified the means, in that sense. 'I'll respect your feelings,' Hiki had, albeit reluctantly, said. Still, he wouldn't have accepted the resignation letter if he didn't understand and think it was for the best, as well. He meddled too much, had too many ideas about how things should go and manipulated the rest of them into it. It made him wonder, too, how complicit he was but cases related to the Ryuugen seemed to crack his usually collected exterior so perhaps, in that aspect at least, not complicit at all. He was odd and manipulative, but he cared about his staff. Someone like Kaji wouldn't stand with him otherwise.

Winding up in front of the Matori again was probably inevitable. No... it was definitely inevitable, with DF in his pocket. 'I'll become an informer.' It was so easy to say that... for him, at least. Kai had yelled at him for that. That, and not for being the reason he'd been kidnapped and trussed up. But becoming an informer... It was impossible for him, after having a pre-existing relationship with the Matori. And maybe it was impossible anyway. Maybe Kai was right. Asking others to become informers for him was one thing (and Kai didn't even have to ask; the ex-lightweight champion practically got to his knees and begged for it) but an informer didn't have that solid foundation to return to, or that security. And that was one thing he didn't deal very well with: a lack of security.
His father was the same, probably. Why he'd proposed to assist the Ryuugen in exchange for protection rather than die a noble man. The plan had already been in place to hide away with Kousaka but they'd been too slow, or too transparent, or maybe it was Haru going out that night and thus exposing Kousaka as a Narc that had triggered it all. Or maybe it was because it was Kousaka, who fit into all the gaps his father left behind, like Kai did for him...

He kneaded his temples. The thoughts just didn't want to stop.

Someone laughed. 'Seems like you could use some of these right about now.'

He looked up. His cigarette was dwindling but what the man was offering was DF, in a neat little packet. He took it, though he already had some. The man in front of him didn't need to know that though.

'You know this stuff?'

'DF.' Printed neatly on each tablet. They'd even managed that on the pomegranate seeds so he wasn't surprised. 'Of course. Not easy to get, though.'

'Easy if you know the right people.' And here he was, being sought out by feelers.

'I know people. Slow, little and expensive though. I'll run out of cash burying things.'

'Oh?' the man asked. 'Though I don't need to ask, do I, Matori-san?'

'Ex-Matori,' Haru corrected. And then, because he was throwing himself in anyway, he added: 'Kurabayashi.'

The man's eyebrows shot up. 'Well, no wonder.'

And there was his way in deeper - too deep. Because as an ex-Matori and Kurabayashi Toki's son, his usefulness was two-fold.

And his need... Well, he wasn't lying about trying to bury things that refused to stay underground.

'Though you'll probably want to try out the goods before you commit.'

Commit... Yeah, that was the thing, wasn't it: proof of commitment.

He shook two tablets out of the packet and swallowed them dry. And, almost instantaneously, his thoughts turned to a dizzying spiral and he shoved them away, because the man was talking again and it was too much trouble focusing on the voices in his head.

.

Later was much like dealing with a hangover and that was equally welcome, because his thoughts couldn't cycle very efficiently within the cotton of his skull. And when they did start creeping in, they came with bubbling, frothing, laughter, because the thoughts were that insensible and disconnected and his emotional threshold was in his throat. Inevitably the laughter gave way to tears and he was reaching for the open packet before something sensible came through: 'wow, two tablets and you're already an addict.'

It was far too easy. And too hard to stumble away from the packet and for a glass of water instead. But he clung to that sensibility because this was too fragile, too. He was an intellectual man, at the end of the day. He wanted to keep his cognition.

But the two waged war with each other after that: his need for a clear mind, and for some solace. Kaji called him an idiot again, but this time only in the vestiges of his own mind. Kai called him an idiot, too. He remembered Kai crushing his cigarettes - and it turned out he'd been right, because Haru had started coughing painfully when trying to breathe in the smoke from a bent cigarette. Because the shape shouldn't affect the chemicals he inhaled, so it was something else. His throat, probably. He'd been throttled into unconsciousness by Sawaki after all. But there'd been something symbolic, too. That time he'd first realised the shadow behind Kai was related to Switch, related to what he'd been chasing all that time.

And then there was Kai, consuming his thoughts again. He was stronger than that. Better than that. He could distract himself without throwing his head to the clouds... couldn't he? Except, he slowly realised, there were few things that could consume him so completely and thus that he could use to distract himself. And most of them were legal drugs, anyway: smoking, alcohol and caffeine. And Kai had his sugar, though even he'd have coffee every now and then (particularly in long stake-outs where he couldn't complain when Haru would bring him a long black instead of the ice-cream sundae he'd requested). They all had their vices, at the end of the day. And they'd arrested an NCD officer last year on account of drug use (and affiliating with the Ryuugen, assault and kidnapping, selling information and orchestrating the hospitalisation of three fellow officers... and three only because Isobe was too stubborn to go himself).

Well, he was an ex-NCD officer if that was going to save any face. But this was ridiculous. He slammed the drawer shut - out of sight, out of mind - but that didn't work. It never worked because it was an officer's job to look in every hiding spot, both literal and figurative. He knew full well how drugs ripped people apart, ripped families and friends apart –

Though the last two didn't really matter to him, and did the first matter too?

In the end, he went out - but that didn't matter. He'd spent too long chasing drugs to be far away from them and he'd already thrown feelers out and reeled targets in, and what was he even chasing this time?

Dragon Fruit, they called it. A bit more like Eden's forbidden fruit, he was finding. And he was Eden who knew well enough not to listen to Satan and yet he'd somehow been swayed... because there was something more important. Always something more important.

.

Smoking helped the fog in his mind, he found. And he fit well into the background: leaning against a lamppost or building or tree, and sometimes with equally dazed and silent company. But he's a bit better at fitting in than the lay person. Not as inconspicous as Section 2, as they've complained to him (except when they doll Kai up, but they've never extended the same company to him and he's not as amiable to cross-dressing as Kai has been, regardless of how useful it's proven).

Why was it that, everywhere he went, there were memories of Kai waiting for him? He let the cigarette fall from his lips. There was a fine balance, now, between sharpness and fog and he was learning to play it. Learning to play the balance between information, money and substance as well, and he'd learnt how careless he'd been before. It had been a long time since he'd had his mother to look after the house, after all. And the last time Kai had invaded and straightened things out was four months ago, now. He'd threatened to move in at that point, and every other time he used his day off to clean. Haru had entertained the notion, despite rejecting it outright. Because there was no way the pair of them would have managed with clashing about most things, but Kai did have that housekeeping instinct that Haru lacked. Though whether or not he could cook was beyond him, seeing as his bentos were usually made by his aunt and the topic just never came up in conversation.

It didn't matter now, though. Kai wasn't going to be using his next day off to clean his house again. Kuzui Mari was at least the assertive sort and Kai was friendly enough to agree to another outing with a coworker and it probably wouldn't be that different to the first one, considering he'd missed every neon-coloured sign of her affection after more than a year of working with her. Even Section 2 knew of it... though that had more, apparently, to do with Takei finding Mari's battle-plan somehow (though considering Kai had walked away from that "date" with a concussion despite that, Takei finding the note was probably a good thing).

He shouldn't be jealous of Kuzui. He'd put himself in this situation after all... but what other choice did he have in that matter? Either Kai didn't wake up or he woke up without the memories that mattered the most...

He shouldn't be jealous of Kai, for being able to forget sad things simply because he was told. Perhaps he should look into hypnotherapy for himself... But he was too shrewd of a person to manage it, probably, and things like the so-called Dollhouse were just fiction, just fantasy.
Probably, this Dragon Fruit was the closest thing he'd get to that fantasy. People had all sorts of motives, after all: better sex, dieting, productivity, forgetting the past, a simple deep-rooted addiction they couldn't shake... Really, they took caffeine to stay awake longer, and alcohol to bury things or else loosen their tongues or others. How many times did they gain valuable information by pouring a drink for someone else. Not to mention Narita's slight of hand. He claimed it was an accident - but he'd been all ready to scold Haru for leaving his stake-out partner unattended as well... And that incident ended with foolish actions from everybody involved but somehow the NCD still got the credit for it all in the end. He'd been moved by Kai's enthusiasm and concern, he'd claimed; moved by their relationship. He probably felt different about it now that he'd gotten the whole picture. The tangled ties of destiny they were only now starting to escape - but were they? He couldn't seem to shake his memories and who knew what it could take to trigger Kai's? They'd been quite stubborn last time, but the Ryuugen had managed it, in the end. Still, a lot of those things were gone: Sawaki and Akaha, his father, the large number of people they'd had involved (cleaned up quite neatly by Section 2 and Narita's men, leaving only scattered remnants and echoes and doppelgangers behind) and their reputation for moving through the shadows now that they'd been exposed. Sure, that dragged his name and his father's through the mud as well, but that was the price they paid with transparency: all the ugly truths that came along with it.

Lucky Kai though, for not needing to do anything actively to forget all that. But that's such a ridiculous thought, because he was the one who handed the key to Kai - and, sixteen years ago, it was his father. Who knew, too, if Kousaka Ren had anything to do with it: whether it had started from him, or even before, or whether it was Kurabayashi Toki who'd introduced it. Haru didn't remember the bracelet with the key charm. That meant nothing, though. It may have seemed so inconsequential that he hadn't bothered committing to memory, or it may have been a new acquisition. It didn't even matter, and yet here he still was, thinking about such things. But by now the cigarette butt was crushed underfoot and the fog as settling into his mind again. He stuck a pocky stick into his mouth to fill the empty space on his lips it left, and for a moment the crunch of the pocky stick was swallowed up by the fog - and then the thoughts were sucked into the vacuum instead. Or they're not as invasive, at least. That's enough for now, when he needs to function outdoors. It's different in his own home when he didn't need to muster up the motivation for anything anytime soon. Sure, the hangover's terrible but he's working that out too: the hangovers from alcohol aren't quite as bad and it wasn't as though anyone was looking to see how many boxes of alcohol addiction or abuse he wound up ticking off. Or not anymore, anyway. They had health checks at work and that was an obvious one to get picked up with. Most doctors didn't ask about the caffeine. Instead, they latched on to the smoking and drinking and sweets. But considering the odd hours they kept, they all clung to at least one of those vices.

At least he hated sweets. That was something... or nothing, because it wasn't like Kai or Commander Hiki were around to try and force-feed him cakes and donuts and cookies.
Oh, that answered his earlier question somewhat. Kai could cook desserts. He had. What he wasted his free evenings on, but anyone in their office with a sweet tooth did appreciate it. Just like Kai appreciated Narita's lollypops.

He bit the pocky hard when he noted that. It was Kai again. Still thinking about Kai even when his teeth hurt and his fingers itched for a cigarette and his mind waded through a fog which apparently wasn't dense enough to filter Kai out. The rest of the NCD too, perhaps: the colleagues he'd gotten to know over the last two years... but it was mostly Kai.
Last time, it had been so easy and unintentional. He'd been struck behind the head and that was the end of it. But wiping out two years... that was another story. He wanted to, without losing everything else...

He stopped short at that, the building he'd been staring at blurring because he'd never thought that so frankly before. He wanted to forget it, becasue that way he wouldn't keep on clinging, and it would be up to coincidence instead of his weakness starting the process of remembering again. And once there was some distance between them, coincidence was less likely to come into play...

And there it was: a far simpler solution that came far too late. All he'd had to do was transfer to another office, far enough away that he'd never coincidentally run into his old co-workers. But that meant continuing the same sort of work, being safe and protected under that umbrella and always having to think about something else...

He didn't want to be protected. And he didn't want to protect because that inevitably lead to attachment and he didn't want that either. He had enough scars on his body to remind him, and more than enough memories to often, in his new less-directional life, to crowd out all other thoughts...

Enough was enough, sometimes. He wanted that dense oblivious fog back, where all he had to do was watch black shadows move. And it wasn't like they were looking for someone in particular: just times of increased traffic. He'd worked with head stuffed full with the flu before. And he wasn't even working now. Just doing things for loose change, essentially, except the loose change was substantial enough to support an adult. Enough to flag his account at some point, if he didn't take it in cash. The irony for having worked for the Matori: he knew what red flags to avoid.

But that didn't matter once the DF was on his tongue. Swallowing was a reflex. The way his mind wandered into the fog was the inevitable he'd gone for. The black shadows was all he had to focus on, on that white background... and that was it. Restart his phone timer whenever he sees one. Look over all that data afterwards and hand it over. See if they're predictable enough to be caught out if bait's left in the right place and for the right people... though he doubted these guys were concerned about who picked it up, in the end. Whether it was the Matori or a rival gang with more firepower than theirs... and if those two forces wound up clashing over the third, it wasn't the first time that'd happen, either.

But he'd have moved on to something else, passed on the knowledge and the responsibility and have been nothing more than an easily forgotten grunt in the process. It wouldn't matter, anymore, when he'd been paid and washed his hands of it all. He wasn't like Kai who wanted to see things through... or Kaji, for that matter. Except Ryuugen; he'd wanted to chase Ryuugen to the end but in the end it was Shiba who'd managed far more than he... and it was that, mostly, that was at the core of his confliction: that, and that he'd been responsible for capturing Kai and complicit to uncovering his buried memories.

Kai, Kai, Kai... Somehow, every thought wound up centred around him. Why couldn't he erase him as effortlessly as he himself had been erased? Why couldn't he?

Someone caught his hand, and only then did he realise he was gripping a third tablet in his hands.

'Liking the stuff?' the dealer asks dryly. 'I didn't think an ex-Matori of all people would turn into a junkie.'

'We all have vices we turn to.' Haru pulled his hand away and returned the tablet to its pack.

'Anyway, why are you here?'

'You're late,' the dealer replied.

'Worried I squealed to my old co-workers?' Haru rolled his eyes. 'Don't worry; that last people I want to see is them.'

The dealer was interested; his eyes shone with that interest. And jumping to conclusions was easy when his father's name was plastered. 'Your father smeared your good name?'

'I don't want to talk about it.' But, truthfully, that had nothing to do with it at all. Yes, he'd been searching for his father all that time. Yes, his father had been the scientist behind Ryuugen's new market drugs - but the driving force of breaking away from the Matori was Kai. The driving force behind everything lately was Kai.

'You're done. You should head home and get some rest. Clear your head.' The man sounded almost concerned - but perhaps he was right. His head was full of fog but Kai was still everywhere in it. The DF was only a temporarily relief, a temporary dulling of that pain.

He wondered why he'd expected anything else. That was foolish of him. Still, it'd be nice if he found something more lasting, more functional... Or less functional, as long as he wasn't in a state of missing that level of functionality.

Maybe he shouldn't have begrudged Kai his ten day slumber after all. An empty mind - thinking of nothing, having to think of nothing - sounded so appealing right now.

.

He had headaches commonly, now. He left them when he had things to do, because he was no stranger to pain and they were distracting and thus welcome in its own way. He was more functional, anyway, when they were present and pulsing behind his eyes. At home though, he didn't need such distractions: he needed oblivion. And that was his current balance.

He observed, spied, reported and did as much shopping as was necessary. Takeaway meals so he didn't need to worry about the dishes; just emptied out the trash when it overflowed. That part of him hadn't changed too much, but the dust seemed to settle thicker. Because Kai hadn't been in three months to clean and he'd come to depend on that. Before that he'd pay someone when it became unbearable for him: when they triggered his rather robust nose into inevitable sneezes... but that was a luxury and he should be careful about that sort of thing without a stable job. Still, that wasn't enough motivation to get him to clean. Perhaps if he got sick. Or perhaps that would be welcome. He had a fairly robust immune system, though. He hadn't taken a sick day for anything not related to injury since Narita got Kai drunk, and that was because he was tired as opposed to sick.
His father had always said, though, that one shouldn't wish for illness while they were well because there were far less fortunate people.

He wondered how Kai was doing. Whether he'd returned to work yet. Whether he'd even been discharged. Whether he had enough memories left to function as an independent adult in this world, or even as an independent working adult - or would it be like when he was seven years old, having to relearn almost everything. And covering twenty-two years would take far longer than seven.

Knowing Hiki, he'd pull out an undercover mission like the MP case. Put him back in high school so he could kill two birds with one stone... but he'd have to avoid _. Iku was admitted to the psychiatric ward, but there were other students who'd remember the three NCD officers who'd been there during the MP case. Still, it was possible. They had all manner of undercover missions. Even avoiding the roles they'd already played, there was plenty of ground to cover - and plenty of ways to make one just unrecognisable enough to slip in under a different cover.

What did it matter, though? If it was a good disguise, he wouldn't pick it and if Kuroda got a hold of Kai, it would be a good disguise. Not to mention Kai could successfully pull off the girl look, which meant he had a lot more variations available to him.

He could walk past Kai and not even realise. That would be for the best, because then he didn't have to school his own reaction. That was what he was thinking, anyway, when he saw someone rush past him and into the university.

They were wearing a hood and carrying a pile of books in their arms. Gloves on both hands. Nothing distinguishable about them at all. And yet Haru found his eyes following him anyway. Found his feet following too, until they disappeared into a lecture hall, sitting in the back by himself and twitching uncomfortably the whole way through.

So much for not recognising him. But at least that answered the question as to whether the Matori was on the case or not.

He watched for a while - longer than he should have, and in a lecture he wasn't paying attention to and hadn't paid for, and then his body caught on that it was too much and he was leaving: leaving because his head was fogless and splitting and his lungs were aching and his heart was holding itself back from dashing over and spilling - because what would he gain? There was no way Kai remembered him, and he shouldn't because he was tied too closely to Switch: from sixteen years ago and now as well.

That didn't make him any less of a fool for tempting fate. Except, now that he knew, he couldn't keep away. It helped that he was being paid for essentially spying on him - or rather, anyone associated with the drug ring lying in wait at said university. Their modus operandi had been easy to figure out: offer drugs for initially reasonable prices and then charge more than the average student could afford so they sunk into massive debt, and then whisk them away underground to work off said debt and leave them to take the fall when they move on. And, clearly, Kai was trying to turn himself into the next victim.

He was doing too good of a job of it, in his opinion. Needle marks running up both arms and were they from the hospital or some good makeup from Kuroda? Fatigue and tremors that was just as likely to come from trying to readjust to a world he didn't wholly remember, and the same went for the bouts of confusion. Still, what was Hiki thinking? Or Kaji? Or even Narita... but Narita mightn't have any idea about the Matori's undercover missions.

But hadn't he been the one who thought sending Kai on a school mission would be a good adjustment for him? And why was he thinking about this? He couldn't change anything. Or do anything except keep an eye on everything and basically sell out his partner's disguise when the time came...

Kai was too close and staring at him suddenly, and Haru blinked and realised he'd been the one to march over in to the other and grab his wrist. That was dangerous, he realised: dangerous when his inhibitions were lower as well as spiralling thoughts. It wasn't a danger he'd recognised before - being close was dangerous in and of itself, but being close and reckless...

He should apologise. Pretend it was an accident and move on, and not call attention to either of them. Instead, his mouth fell into old habits and he could only hope, later, that everyone who heard - including Kai - would misinterpret. 'Useless.'

As it was, a flash of befuddled hurt flashed across his face, before his expression with some effort hardened. 'Who are you to talk to me like that?' he snapped.

Those words sounded so strange, in Kai's voice, but hopefully it was only because he knew Kai so well. He definitely knew how that face softened - and there was something on his own face to prompt that, wasn't there? Or else Kai did recognise him, a little. 'Who are you?' he repeated, a little softer. 'I'm sorry, but you look...'

Haru pulled away, backed away and Kai didn't follow. He didn't know if he'd been hoping he would or not... Maybe he had: maybe that was fool's hope at play again but either way that had definitely been a poor action on his part. Even if he hadn't known Kai, approaching someone he was only meant to observe was foolish and could compromise an investigation. And if wind got back to the DF dealers that he'd approached a Matori after having cut all ties with them...

It was the sort of reckless thing that Kai would do, but not him.

For the first time in a while he recognised where he'd fallen too, but he was in too deep to be able to - or want to - dig himself back out.

Even if he could have gotten used to working with Kai again? a little treacherous voice in his head asked. But truthfully, he didn't want that - because once was a coincidence but twice suggested something more and that meant it could potentially occur again.

Wasn't the whole reason for detaching himself from the Matori to avoid Kai?

That was a lie, whispered the little voice in the head. That was the excuse. He was running away and that was his, albeit pathetic, reason. Kai was running away as well, but the Kai of right now probably didn't even knew that. Would he start searching again? Or would he just start over like he had when he was seven?

It shouldn't matter. It didn't matter. He wasn't a part of that - Kai's life - anymore... and yet he couldn't seem to stay away.

.

'They got a new victim,' the dealer said. 'Think they're running soon?'

'Think the Matori's about to crack down on them,' Haru replied. The new victim had to be Kai, which meant the Matori was going to raid, regardless of whether that had been what they'd aimed for or not. 'They caught the undercover agent.'

'Oh,' said the dealer, amused. 'Recognise a friend of yours? That boy you stopped one day?'

'No,' Haru replied - but of course his little reckless action had reached the wrong years. 'Not a friend; just a fresh useless newbie who's young enough to pass as a student. And I stopped him because he was about to pass out. Didn't put two and two together until later.'

'Bit slow on the uptake for someone you've worked with,' said the man suspiciously.

'Well, I am trying not to think of them.' And wasn't that the truth? He was just hopeless at it, apparently. 'And long-term undercover is usually section 2. I never worked with them.' That was important information, but useless for someone not in the NCD or police. That was the key to playing the double agent or even keeping past loyalties: give them inside information that sounded impressive but was no good at all practically.

'Didn't you know anyone?' the man pressed.

Well, he was persistent. But that would have been useful: being able to spot any Matori spying on him. Well, Haru wasn't going to give that much if he could help it. 'My partner worked with them often - so much so that I've had to cover his paperwork.' Again, true but essentially useless so long as they didn't discover who his partner was. And if the Ryuugen's shadow did lurk behind this all, then they already knew: they'd known more about Kai than either of them. 'He's gone now, though,' he added, and that was also true. Wouldn't stop the Ryuugen from going after him again if they wanted to, but it should be enough for a curious dealer trying to manipulate its lackeys.

'Ah.' And it seemed it was enough for this one. 'Looks like it was more than your father that made you leave the Matori.'

Haru shrugged. 'He would have argued against everyone for my sake.' Another useless thought, for both of them this time. Nobody would say a word of blame to him, in the first place, and it wasn't like Kai remembered him anymore anyways.

'Lost your father and the one person who could have supported you.' The dealer sounded almost sympathetic. 'Pity the government doesn't look at those sorts of benefits to narcotics. That and chronic pain.'

'Well, that's where people like you come in.' And that was an endless argument. There were debates for legalising cannabis, but there were very few places (and not a single whole country) who'd succeeded in that matter. After Switch and its origins from morphine, Haru doubted Japan would be legalising cannabis anytime soon.

Then again, there was only so much they could do even when things were illegal. That was why the Matori existed in the first place. Cleaning house for drugs too entrenched in their city, or pharmaceuticals gone bad and rogue, or the fruits of gangs attempting to stamp their seal onto the streets... But of course people were going to complain there was nothing else, or they couldn't afford anything else or else didn't have access for some other reason, but in truth the ones they arrested most frequently weren't ones who took advantage of such people, or for who drugs became their vice. A very different sort of necessity and dependence: psychological, as opposed to medical.

Well, anyone who was addicted was psychologically dependent. And chemically dependent, hence physically affected and physical withdrawal.

Two cars pulled up in front of the building. The pair of them stopped talking, and just watched. Matori, out of their cars and into the building so fast he doubted the dealer had made out much of them: Kaji, Takei, Kuroda and someone he didn't recognise and so must be new or a recent transfer, like Kuroda who, last he'd known, had been with Section 2.

'A Matori raid, huh.' The dealer lit his own cigarette and offered the lighter. Haru shook his head. The fog was preferable, right then. The dealer offered a fresh packet instead and he accepted that.

He'd wonder why the dealer was so generous, but it was plainly obvious here: he had valuable knowledge and experience, and the dealer wanted him to share.

He just swallowed a tablet and let the fog settle over him and watched. An ambulance with its sirens off pulled up quietly, waiting. And, after a bit, the NCD came out again, along with Kai with his hood down, two men in cuffs, three staggering students and a fourth, barely conscious in Kaji's arms.

Even with the fog behind his eyes, he could see them all too clearly. Was the new man there to replace him? Or was Kuroda? Or was Hiki holding onto his seat and desk, expecting him to come back and saving his seat for him?

What did it matter? He wasn't going back. 'I sure think about a lot of useless things.'

'Better useless thoughts than toxic ones,' the man replied. 'Anyone you recognise there?'

'Not really,' Haru lied. 'Not my team.' That was kind of the truth, at least. He'd resigned. And Kuroda and the new face weren't part of Section 1 when he'd been there.

'They call that guy a demon.' The new one? Haru blinked. There was something odd about being told about the Matori by an outsider. 'The demon of Kinma. He's a bloodhound for searching out drug dealers. Has quite the reputation.'

'I'm not one for workplace gossip,' Haru mumbled, 'or socialisation, much. But that's nothing special. We all had reasons for being Matori and hunting people who distributed or abused drugs. Some wanted to stop being hurt by them. Some wanted a legal way to express their distaste or hatred. Some were searching for something in particular.'

'The Ryuugen, presumably.' The dealer dropped his cigarette and grinded it underfoot. 'There are whispers still, you know.'

'I've heard. Insubstantial rumours for the most part. Who knows whether they're ghosts or people jumping at shadows or something else...'

'Looks like the fruit's loosened your tongue a bit.' The dealer grinned. 'Though I can't answer your question, the Ryuugen is pretty infamous so another gang could easily try to make use of their influence, and you'd have only caught whoever showed up to the party. Can't guarantee it's everyone and the net of influence spreads wide.'

'Wide nets also mean others could have easily picked up the spoils.' The man's right; he is running his mouth and he has to watch that. But it's so much easier to just keep talking... 'But of course,' he replied. 'It wound up being quite fortuitous to us, but that doesn't stop people from being terrified of the so-called avenging angel and it just means that everyone will start looking for new top dogs to hunt.'

'Not everyone.' Haru, for lack of anything in his mouth, hewed his lip. 'Some people had specific beef against the Ryuugen.'

'Still, it's quite a switch.'

Haru winced at the choice in words. 'Well, I wrung myself out chasing them and got nothing in the end. There's no point chasing the scraps. Now I just want to be rid of it all.'

'Well, it's on the packet, isn't it? Eden's fruit that gives you a taste of heaven.' The man sighed. 'Though if you're trying to forget things, there's no easy way to do it. The mind's a particularly stubborn thing.'

'Well, that's not always the case,' Haru muttered - and then wondered if he'd given too much away with that throwaway comment.

'Who do you think created DF?' the dealer asked suddenly.

'Someone close enough to the Ryuugen to snatch in progress formulas and refine into something passable,' Haru replied. 'The Ryuugen drugs had a chemical signature.'

'They do, do they?' The man's eyes narrowed in thought. 'It'll be a simple matter to find the fakes, then.'

And Haru knew, then, that he'd definitely given too much.

.

He bumped into Kai, again, a week later when he'd gone to meet up with another one of his contacts. This particular dealer was one terrified by the thought of Ryuugen's shadow still lurking - as opposed to the other who operated far more in the open and with more curiosity than caution. And it hadn't taken him long to spot Kai's car in the parking lot and that meant he was in the middle of a take-out.

He still hadn't expected Kai to knock on the door. Of course the guy was going to let him in, though. He had a gun. And what he thought was an enemy in his home grounds.

He'd acted before his mind quite caught up, catching Kai's wrist and that blank cold look in his eyes before a flash of recognition and then it was Kai's usual brown, blinking in confusion.

Luckily, he let him talk. And talking was so much easier with white powder in his throat. Lies so he could cover for the both of them, and lucky Kai looked young enough to pass as a gofer and was dressed casually enough to suit the part. And then he dragged him out and down the stairs, and that was far too nostalgic of their old partnership for him to bear.

At least Kai allowed himself to be pulled along and that gave him the time to collect himself somewhat. Externally, anyway; he was messy fairy-floss inside and despite his lack of eagerness for sweets, he found that thought apt.

'Umm...' Kai hedged, finally. 'I'm sorry for that. I just...'

He should have cut him off there; told him to get lost, acted the stranger and then been extra careful not to run into Kai again. But there was something earnest in Kai's eyes, and of course having followed him into that room was not coincidence. 'You look familiar,' Kai finished, sounding frustrated. 'You feel familiar, but I can't remember at all.

That was simultaneously the best and worst thing he'd heard for a while. 'You should stay away from me,' he said, and he realised later that was quite foolish. Practically asking for the other to ask questions.

And, of course, he asked questions. 'Why? You saved me back there. I do know you, don't I?'

And if he'd pretended to be a stranger instead, he could have avoided that. But it was too late now, and he had fog and fairy floss in his mind and flickering shadows as well: shadows of the relationship they'd shared and all the phantoms of the past. 'I'm one of the skeletons in your closet,' he said finally. 'You were lucky enough to forget; you should leave them buried there.'

'Lucky,' Kai echoed, and his mouth twisted and Haru was intrigued, because Kai didn't often wear an expression like that. When he tried smoking in the hospital, yet. And Haru pulled at his cheeks because the guy wound up crumpling his cigarettes. 'Lucky,' Kai repeated, and Haru pulled his head out of the past. 'People say that, that they have memories they wish they could forget but they don't know how it is to wake up without being able to even remember your own name, and a significant amount of what you do remember afterwards is second hand knowledge. And at least I have some things: basic skills, facts I'd learnt through school... It'd be so many times worse if I didn't know anything at all...'

'It is worse...' And Haru knew he shouldn't say this, shouldn't throw Kai's words back to him of all people... but who else could give him this? Had Kai even spoken to his aunt and uncle about how he'd felt, back then? 'You're scared. The entire world is too new and bright and you don't know who's who or what's what or who to trust but you have to pick at least someone, otherwise you'll never know and, if you're lucky, there'll be someone who makes you feel warm and safe even though you're terrified and that's someone you can believe…' He shook his head. Those weren't all Kai's words; just what he'd extrapolated from them. His tongue really had loosened over the months. 'But the upside is you could lose entire portions of your life and not feel the gaping hole they've left behind. You don't need to remember every little thing that lost, like the dog you might have had when you were six that died when you were seven. The you as of now feels that loss keenly, don't you?'

'I had a dog?' Kai repeated, latching onto the random example of all things, while he processed the rest. 'I suppose… If I don't know I've forgotten something and nobody mentions it and it's not something that ever comes up otherwise, I'd never know I'd forgotten it in the first place. But I remember bits and pieces of my past, and a lot more of it's just a blur until I come across the right trigger, so… yeah.' He wasn't as open as he usually was, but perhaps that was because he didn't know whether to consider Haru a stranger or friend. Or, more likely, it was because he couldn't find the words himself.

'Beats me if you ever had a dog,' Haru replied. And how was he supposed to get himself out of this conversation? 'You were just a victim.'

'Victim?' Kai echoed. 'Of what?' A breath of silence between them, and then Kai reached out to grip the other's shirt, eyes shining. 'Please! Tell me!'

Haru's breath caught. Those eyes… He all but yanked himself away.

'Wait!'

He didn't wait. He couldn't wait.

.

Narita caught up with him again. Of course, the word had gotten to him. Kai's stakeout partner would have probably reported his actions to Director Hiki, and Kai would have had to explain himself in turn. And Hiki, no doubt, had told Narita, and now Narita had come to play the worried uncle with a wayward ex-rival once more.

'I heard you've gotten mixed up in a bit of trouble.'

'I wouldn't call it that.' But he would; he definitely would. He just didn't want help from Narita. Or any of this: these run-ins with Kai where he could undo everything and for no reason at all, the ghost of Ryuugen teasing from the shadows, playing with words and information and hoping he was the on top by the end of it all…

Narita raised an eyebrow… but Haru doubted he'd be able to tell. Narita dealt with gangs and firearms, and only occasionally snatched cases from under the noses of the Matori. It would take one of the Matori, probably. Like Isobe had sniffed out Shingo. But Kai hadn't noticed… had he?

'Masataka called with quite an interesting story,' Narita explained. 'Apparently you and Kai had a fascinating chat.'

'The idiot walked right up to the apartment he was staking out and knocked on the door,' Haru muttered. 'Now what do you think would have happened if the other Kai came out?' And he almost had. Haru was sure that, if he hadn't grabbed the other's wrist right then, that gun would have switched hands. And he remembered the shooter in Yokohama, when he'd been just that little bit too late. The paramedics had needed to sedate Kai, in the end. And then they later – too late, really, after they'd been kidnapped and rescued and Kai had been readmitted for different reasons – realised he'd absconded from the psychiatric ward during a one-on-one session with the psychiatrist.

Kai had found Narita afterwards, but Narita hadn't known about the Yokohoma shooting then. And then Takei and Haru outside headquarters, but they also hadn't thought, hadn't remembered that Kai couldn't have signed himself out under the Mental Health Act and so should have still been at the hospital. Everything had turned into a mess right then, just as the Ryuugen had planned it. And they'd gotten the answer they'd sought at the end of it all – even if it wasn't the answer they'd hoped for. Kai got what he wanted too – the memories he'd lost – and he'd also paid the price for those and been forced to let go of them again. And Haru… Haru too had found what he'd been searching for – his father – only to lose him again.

So, in the end, they'd all found what they'd been looking for but lost far worse. What a waste it had all turned out to be…

'That's a very lonely thing to say,' Narita commented.

'Shut it, old man,' Haru snapped. And at least that irritation couldn't be taken for anything else, because they'd always shared that sort of relationship. Narita was unduly protective of Kai, because of his involvement in the Kousaka's murder case, but Haru was only linked to that by association and it had taken Narita longer than Haru himself to put that connection together.

Then again, Narita hadn't had Kai – the other Kai – try to throttle him because he'd mistaken him for his father.

'Wouldn't it be easier to investigate under the Matori?' Narita asked, finally, when Haru offered nothing more. 'The others would be happy to have you back. And Kai has been asking about you.'

Haru sighed. Of course he was; Haru gave too much and Kai wasn't about to let it go.

'He even mentioned your name – your first name, I mean, when the others had only referred to you by your surname.'

Which meant it would have been quite easy for Kai to look him up: both in the Matori records and on public news. 'That's hardly surprising. You think he wouldn't have looked me up?'

'I don't think he had the time,' Narita shrugged. 'Nakagura picked him up not too far from here. Though I guess it was lucky Kai left his keys in the ignition, otherwise Nakagura would've had to leave the car and walk.'

'Nagakura Kounosuke,' Narita explained. 'Transfer from Kinki's Narcotics Department.'

'The demon of Kinma,' Haru frowned. 'My replacement, huh.'

'From what I understand, they've had to reshuffle people after the Ryuugen incident,' Narita frowned. 'Shiba was suspended, Kai was out of commission and you'd resigned, and the Kanto Narcotics Department had always been short-staffed despite the two of you coming in to fill new positions.'

'Two newbies just don't measure up to two old hats, huh.' He snorted. It had been painfully obvious that they'd been understaffed, but they'd managed anyway for the most part.

'Then there was the whole incident with Shingo earlier, and he'd never been replaced, so the higher-ups thought it would be a good time to reshuffle personnel. There was an incident at Kinki that lead to Nagakura's transfer, so between that and the current state of affairs with the Matori here, it was decided that the new personnel would be distributed throughout the other seven branches, and those with some experience transferred here to help with the workload. Section 2 got some transfers too, as I understand it. A new girl, too, so Kuroda could transfer into Section 1. Someone apparently wasn't too impressed with all the crossdressing and figured an actual girl on the team might fix that.'

Haru snorted again. Well, he didn't like doing it either and avoided it most of the time, but Kai did have that surprising knack for passing as a girl. And it certainly widened the array of disguises they could employ.

They… He wasn't a Matori anymore.

Narita offered him a pocky stick. He shook his head. The powder from the DF seemed constantly stuck in his throat now… or maybe that was the tobacco smoke. Either way, pocky wasn't going to help wash it down. He pulled out a cigarette instead.

'No smoking in my car,' Narita protested. 'It's brand new, you know. Celebrating going cold turkey.'

'Sixteen years of smoking and you managed cold turkey.' That was impressive, and once again Haru felt a pang of jealousy he could have done without. And he couldn't begrudge the car, either. Back when he'd still been working, there'd been no time to splurge on anything and no point… considering they usually took his car to stakeouts and he'd inherited the house from his father.

'You're chattier than you used to be,' Narita commented, unwrapping a new pocky stick for himself. 'In any case, we've gotten off topic. Didn't you say too much to Kai, after deciding you'd stay away?' He took a bite, then quickly added: 'Not saying you should stay away; you know I don't agree with that, and neither does Masataka… or anyone really. But if you didn't change your mind, what are you going for? You've only given Kai more of a reason to dig? And you know how stubborn he gets.'

'I know. I just…' He saw him, and the remains of his self-restraint went out the window. 'I need to let him go.'

'You need to get him back,' Narita said. 'That's my personal and professional opinion. 'Would you call someone obsessively and desperately searching for something happy?'

Would he? Probably not…

'And you, you look like you're falling to pieces.'

Haru laughed at that. 'Sticky pieces,' he agreed, 'like fairy floss.'

'Fairy floss?' Narita repeated, and Haru wondered if he'd given him too much as well. He was making a bad habit of that: saying too much to the wrong people and creating a bigger mess of everything.

'Stop the car.'

The car slowed to a stop.

'I wanted to ask you…' Narita hesitated. How strange. 'Well… what have you been doing with the DF you get from your dealer contacts?'

He'd definitely given Narita too much.

'Keep an eye on Kai,' was all he said now. It was probably too late, but maybe Narita would let it go.

Or maybe he wouldn't. Narita and his driver let him walk away, but Haru couldn't honestly say which outcome he would have preferred.

.

He was out of DF and the cigarettes could only do so much, nowadays. And the call came at a convenient time.

Too convenient, when he reflected on it, but that was well after he'd put on a jacket and headed over to the apartment. Because the man, sounding spooked, had mentioned the shadow of the Ryuugen as well and that was the perfect bait, if he hadn't already had a reason in needing more DF.

There was no denying it at that point. He was addicted. He needed it enough that the need eclipsed rational thought, that he was out at dusk in the cold without a jacket on because of that need, and that he was being far too erratic and letting far too many weaknesses slip.

Addiction was a funny word, all in all. There was a biochemical side to it, and a physical, and a mental or emotional side as well and usually it's one of the latter two that kicks it all off but vulnerabilities in all of them was what dug the grave they scrambled to get out of afterwards. Or some didn't even bother scrambling: they just sunk and sunk and sunk because that was better than the alternative, better than what waited for them if they did manage to climb out of their graves. Like that girl Kai had found while helping the Intelligence unit. Like Iku from the Teito school case. And as for those kids, they'd managed to get out of that grave on account of being minors but did they really manage to turn their lives around or where they too entrenched, by that time? They spoke of college, and freedom, and clean slates but it wasn't like they had the manpower to ensure that's what they'd done. They simply vanished into the world, and unless they got picked up in a later case, that was where they'd remain.

Commendable if they'd actually managed it, but Haru couldn't see that sort of optimistic thinking being anything more than fool's hope: not then or now.

And he'd crossed the point where he could hold on to fool's hope, really. Or perhaps his dependence was a form of fool's hope in itself. He'd tangled himself into something he wasn't sure he could get out of – and wasn't sure he wanted to expend the effort in extracting himself from, because it was equal parts chasing a shadow he'd never really stopped chasing and a distraction from exactly that and the whole problem was that he couldn't let go of those things.

This time, he'd knocked on the door, found it unlocked, and gone inside. That was the second mistake, though at the time he'd thought it a mistake of the dealer instead, because it was awfully dangerous to leave the door unlocked in his line of work.

Then he smelt the blood, and he kept on walking: mistake number three. Number four was when his training had taken over and he pulled on a pair of gloves and examined the body, then the surrounds. No cell phone, which he found odd, particularly since he'd had all his client contacts in it. Clean bullet wound, too. It looked remarkably like a police-issue gun, but perhaps the DF was making his eyes go dull because neither the police nor the Matori would shoot on sight and then leave a crime scene like this –

Alarms sounded: too sudden and close and his heart jumped into his throat. It wasn't until the police barged in with their guns aimed at him that he realised how it looked: dead body on the floor, his gloves stained with blood and drawers haphazardly opened as though searching for something.

He explained to the best of his ability, but it sounded like a pathetic excuse even to his own powder-stuffed ears.

.

'You didn't mention you're a Matori,' the Meguro officer commented.

'I'm not,' Haru replied, and he wondered how that had come up. Did they run a background check? Or had they gone to Director Hiki for information and he'd turn something on its head? 'I resigned a few months ago.'

'That's not what it says here.' The officer tapped his clipboard. 'Kurabayashi Haru, Investigator for the Narcotics Control Department, First Investigation Division, Kanto-Shin'etsu Regional Bureau of Health and Welfare. Initially on paid personal leave following the Toukoku-kai incident, currently unpaid since you've used up all your vacation days –'

'I resigned,' Haru interrupted.

'Not what it says here,' the officer repeated. 'Just on leave. Though trust me; we'd have preferred if you were resigned. Wouldn't have had to deal with Director Hiki then.'

Haru snorted at that. Hiki did enjoy stringing the police along… except, of course, the ones he had a good deal of respect for. 'So you've met him.'

'And Etou Kai.'

Haru stiffened at that. Why bring him up, of all people?

'So he is that Etou Kai,' the officer mused, 'and you are that Kurabayashi Haru.'

'They're hardly common names,' Haru spat out. 'Where are you going with this?'

'The Toukoku-kai incident,' the officer replied. 'You're being released in an hour should our investigation not uncover any grounds to hold you longer, but you should know this now: someone's going around getting rid of all traces of the Ryuugen.'

'You think it's me?' Haru blinked. Though he could see where that idea could come from. 'I lost my reason for chasing the Ryuugen in Toukoku-kai, you know.'

'And yet, by your own claims, you were still chasing them.' The officer pulled back. 'Look, this isn't the first murder case you've been involved in from this end but you were cleared of that one with pretty damning proof against the real guy. This time, it's not in the bathroom of a pub but someone's personal apartment. If you are indeed innocent, the proof might not be so accessible this time.'

If, huh. Well, the officer had no reason to believe him. Though… 'I wasn't chasing them,' he corrected. 'I was trying to escape them.'

'By starting on drugs?' the officer asked bluntly.

Haru laughed. 'So I'm not being let go, after all.'

'No.' And, for some reason, the officer sounded a little sorry. 'I'm sure, once the Matori is informed, they'll send someone down to question you.'

He'd dug himself into a pretty deep hole, apparently. Haru just shook his head and laughed again. 'How did this happen?'

'We were hoping you could tell us.'

But he couldn't.

.

They left him alone long enough after that that he started withdrawing, both from lack of cigarettes and lack of drugs. Pity Narita had gotten himself promoted out last year; he might have helped. Or maybe he wouldn't have. Even Director Hiki help didn't wind up doing anything, this time. They didn't need a hair-strand test when his urine came back positive for narcotics. And nobody in the Matori was going to be sympathetic against a drug user. Even Kai, who tried to take care of everyone, wouldn't give him cigarettes even with his memories intact so no way that would happen now.

And the Director would be an idiot to send Kai of all people here. Kai was there already, anyway. Buried in his mind, in his every pore. He remembered too well, all the things he'd tried to smoke out of himself. It just hadn't worked and now, when he had nothing to bury those memories with again, they were sharper than ever: needles poking into his skin.

Meguro station really needed to work on its accommodations. Walls that shadows crept up. Corners where voices of the past could echo out of. Even when he knew it was just his imagination, the goosebumps crawled up his skin. His fingers found something hard and he tried to bring them up to his lips, but of course he was still restrained. That hard thing was probably a screw on the chair, he thought a while later. It didn't matter. He'd cracked his nails trying to dig it out of there without even thinking of it as a possible means to his escape.

Eventually, the officer came back and, this time, his eyes wore a curtain of pity. 'Is this what drugs do to good investigators?' he asked rhetorically, before shaking his head. 'The Matori are here to interrogate you.'

Two new figures enter the cell – or perhaps one figure and a ghost. Because Kai was there. Except he shouldn't be there.

'Nagakura, Etou, I'll leave you both to it.'

'Thank you, Ootsuki-san,' said Nagakura. Kai simply stared at him.

The officer nodded and left.

'Kurabayashi Haru-san?' Nagakura asked.

'So you're my replacement, huh.' Standing next to Kai like that… 'Or did I simply imagine that?'

'Replacement?' Kai echoed.

Nagakura, on the other hand, shook his head. 'I was transferred due to an… incident at Kinki. It has nothing to do with anyone else.'

'Is that so?' That voice, that expression… that seemed a lot like him, somehow. Had he made the man up, then? A reflection of his heart or something poetic like that. A demon of his own heart. 'Why Kinma?'

Nagakura blinked. 'Why I joined the Kinki branch? It's close to where I live, I suppose…' He shook his head. 'Really, we haven't even begun yet.'

'Nagakura-san,' Kai interrupted. He hadn't stopped staring at Haru. He'd barely even blinked. 'Could I have a moment alone with him?'

Nagakura spun around to gape at him. Haru… Haru wondered if Nagakura would grant such a thing. A reflection of his own heart might or mightn't… Really, that wouldn't prove anything at all.

But Nagakura did grant the request; clasped a hand on Kai's shoulder and then left the two of them alone. Kai came closer, to where Haru was still bound. Close enough to touch, if he wasn't bound.

Phantoms couldn't be touched, right? How cruel of his hallucinations to treat him like this. Or perhaps Director Hiki had sent Kai here, thinking the two of them needed to talk.

Well, they had talked. And what a mess that had been.

'Well, what is it?' He could play along, for now. It wasn't as though he had much of a choice and maybe it was a little easier to pretend Kai was really there. A figment of his imagination would be better, but not right then where he doubted everything but the cuffs around his wrists holding him there.

'Where do I begin?' Kai ran a hand through his hair, then gave a deep bow. 'I'm sorry!'

…what?

'I should have noticed.' He straightened, chewing lightly on his lower lip. 'I kind of did. You were at the university, weren't you? When you stopped me by the water fountain. You picked me out of a crowd of people –'

'Because you looked like you were about to knead over. What was Hiki thinking, sending you on a mission as soon as you were discharged from the hospital?'

'Director Hiki thought the marks from the cannulas made the disguise as someone shooting up injectable more believable, and the not looking a hundred percent helped there too… And I couldn't just sit around doing nothing.' Kai chewed at his lower lip again. 'We've worked together in the past, haven't we?' Then, before Haru could answer that at all, he added: 'I'm sorry; that must sound like a strange thing to say. Though you already know about my memories. But I never saw you at the department after that. Did you leave while I was underover at the university?'

'At the hospital, actually.' And why was he telling him all of this? 'I left before you woke up from your coma, because I couldn't face you.'

'Toukoku-kai,' Kai whispered. 'I've read the report, but it's so threadbare. Two investigators abducted – me and you. A third shot – that was Kaji-san. Another revealed himself as a mole to provide the location. Section 2 and the TMP Special Forces launch a joint raid and rescue the two investigators, as well as shoot all the Ryuugen members present, including the top three officers, thus essentially disbanding the Ryuugen. But why were we abducted in the first place? How… did everything blow up like that?'

'It was a bomb sixteen years in the making,' Haru replied, and here was where it mattered, whether he was talking to a hallucination or the real Kai, because he didn't want to dig those memories up. He was the one who buried them, after all. Except he was also the one who dug them out in the first place: the bait that succeeded while all other manners of bait failed. 'You shouldn't have become a Matori. That might have saved you, at least. And you should have stayed away when you came back.'

'I couldn't.' Kai shook his head – and Haru's consciousness would more likely have said: "Like you?" 'I couldn't quit, because I'm sure whatever happened to make me lose my memories is related, and that would have just been running away. I can catch glimpses, sometimes. Shadows. I wouldn't have that if I hadn't stayed with the Matori… and maybe it would have been more peaceful, but…' He trailed off.

'It would have been running away, huh,' Haru repeated. 'You would say that, though there are a lot of people who would say you don't have the right.'

'Because I can't recall?' His lips twisted again: that irritated. 'Either I chose to forget, somehow did, and am now chasing my tail… or it was outside my control all along. Either way, those who remember everything also don't have the right to dismiss the pain of one who can't.'

'Fair enough,' Haru acquainted. 'Looks like you're fighting some of your own battles, now.'

'Huh?' Kai blinked, surprised, and Haru wondered what sort of expression he was wearing to warrant that. Or perhaps it was his words.

And then Kai laughed, which was even more surprising… and also more like Kai. 'You called me "useless", at the university,' he said. 'Now I see why that was so nostalgic.'

'Really?' Haru asked. Was he trying to make Kai remember, or forget? 'I'm a fool, aren't I?'

'Huh?' Kai repeated.

'I ran away,' Haru admitted. 'I knew you'd forget about me, because I was too tangled up in everything so you had to, to let go of all the sad things and be able to wake up again. But I didn't want to let go of you. I was selfish and left you there for ten days until I couldn't take it anymore: your blank eyes just staring, and everyone's pitying gazes when they should have blamed me like the rest of Kanto for carrying the name of Kurabayashi – the name of a man who was just trying to protect his son and the son of his best friend.'

'Kurabayashi Toki?' Kai asked. He quickly apologised at Haru's flinch. 'I'm sorry; I've just read that name…'

'In the newspaper, no doubt.' Haru could hear the bitterness in his tone, which meant so could Kai. It was bitter enough to taste like blood on his lips, and in his throat. Had he bitten his lip somewhere? He ran his tongue over to be sure. It tasted like he had. And it tasted disgusting too; he'd much rather have the dry white powder or grey smoke, especially now that he was well past coughing at either of those –

'Hey, are you okay?' Someone was rubbing his back suddenly, and Haru blinked at the puddle of – no, he hadn't been coughing, but rather vomiting, and now the smell of that puddle in his lap hit him. He wrinkled his nose.

'Please tell me you've been eating more than DF and cigarettes,' Kai groaned, circling back around.

'Fairy floss?' Haru suggested. He had eaten fairy floss, right? Wasn't that how it got into his head?

'Fairy floss?' Kai repeated. 'As much as I like sweets, that doesn't qualify as a proper meal.' He looked the other man over once more. 'I'm getting paper towel and some sandwiches. And I should probably get Nagakura-san as well.'

He was almost out of the door when Haru threw the last shreds of what he'd gained away. 'I'm the reason you lost your memories. I did it. I gave you a key of words.'

'Key of words?' Kai repeated, but judging from his face, that made no sense at all.

.

Kai was back quicker than expected. Too quick; Haru had barely assimilated the idea of having been left alone again, let alone what he'd said.

Cracked so easily, at the end of the day. It didn't matter if that was the real Kai or a figment of his imagination: he'd still cracked in front of him. Because if he couldn't keep himself together in front of the hallucination, how could he manage in front of the real deal? And in what world did bile taste like blood, and powder like fairy floss and little screws on chairs feel like tablets and cuffs around his wrists feel like ropes choking him to death?

'Breathe, Kurabayashi-san.'

Haru breathed. And took in Kai with empty hands… or rather, looking exactly like he had when he'd left. 'So you were a hallucination,' he laughed. 'Figures. Guess I lucked out there.'

'Afraid not.' And Kai smiled – a smile that looked foreign on his face, and that was odd because Haru knew a fair few of Kai's smiles, including the creepy ones of his alter ego. 'You're rather unlucky, actually, to be caught like this. Convenient though. I can get rid of four loose ends in one location.'

Haru was slow to process that. It was the thin scratchy stuff on his body distracting him. Or the way his brain felt like wool whose shape had been messed up. Or perhaps it was the drugs he hadn't had for a while, or the cigarettes his lips were itching for, or the way he found himself on his back suddenly, a warm body on top of him, and his name – his first name, at long last, ringing in his ears.

Kai was standing on one end of the room, facing off against Nagakura. Kai was also on top of him, having knocked him out of the way of a knife gleaming red with blood.

His heart started to pound loudly in his ears, drowning out whatever the Kai on top of him was saying as he was patted down. The sigh of relief was obvious, though. Apparently Kai hadn't found any injuries. But then where had the blood come from?

Nagakura, grappling with the other Kai, was easily knocked aside. 'Kai-kun, watch out!'

But Kai, mostly turned away from Haru now, was smiling. And, this time, Haru recognised that smile. And Kai's name got stuck in his throat because he was useless right then, and Asakura's words blared in his ears like a siren: "You'll get him killed one day!"

Tied up and useless, and here Kai was having to defend him. If he distracted him, they were both dead. Or he was watching a fight between two hallucinations and that was probably more accurate, except one wasn't as good a copy as the other.

An imposter, then. An imposter and the real Kai.

He'd told Kai what he'd done after all.

'Hey, stop that.' It was Nagakura, suddenly by his side and half-supporting him – and oh, how his head ached. 'I've heard a lot about you, Inspector Kurabayashi, and this isn't how I want to get to know you.'

'Well, I'm not pleasant company,' he groaned. 'Hallucinating two Kai's.'

'No, they're both there. Or one real Kai-kun and an imposter.' Nagakura dragged him into the corner. 'Admittedly, seeing a fellow Investigator withdrawing is heartbreaking, but can you concentrate enough to help us out here? Why is that imposter masquerading at Kai, having killed a suspect DF dealer in custody and now just tried to kill you?'

'…Ryuugen.' It was the only answer that made sense. Or maybe he was just missing the other possibilities. 'Someone's trying to wipe out all traces of… uurgh.' This time, it was Nagakura who shoved him out of the way, and they both tumbled into the wall.

Kai stood in front of both of them, holding the bloody knife. 'Don't touch them,' he spat.

That was the real Kai. Or the alter ego with the blank eyes who came out to protect him.

'Kai-kun!' Nagakura yelled.

No! Haru opened his mouth to cut him off – but it was already too late. Why did Kai's name have to be so short and easy to pronounce? Kai-kun, Kai-kun, Kai-kun –

And then a sharp scream to cut that echo off.

'Shut up already!' Haru screamed into the wall. 'I get it! I get it! It was my fault!' He was the one who took Kai's memories, and before that the one who'd gotten him to shoot because he'd been too slow to protect him and too slow to bring him back to himself, and before even that kidnapped more than once… and before all that, it'd been him who'd blown Kousaka Ren's cover sixteen years ago and started the cascade towards his death.

There was another scream, and then soft words in his ears. 'It's okay, Haru.' No honourfics, no distance: just Kai's bright brown eyes staring into his own. 'I promised to protect you, too.'

.

They stabbed each other, in the end: Kai and the imposter. Or, rather, the imposter stabbed Kai when Nagakura had distracted him, and then Kai had struck back when the imposter moved towards Haru instead. Because, Kai said, in that moment he couldn't let Haru be hurt and so he had to fight, except last time he'd fought with his memories and his words.

But like last time, his desire to save them was stronger than his sudden, desperate need. The two Kai managed to work in sync, and maybe this was what they needed last time: something that could unite them both instead of handing all the reins to one or the other. No wonder Kai broke last time, then. He was only half of what he should have been. He'd comforted the one who fought for him in desperate need but he hadn't used that: he'd just used the memories.

Now, several days later… Haru stared into those eyes, clearer than he'd ever seen but no less bright, and he wondered if this wasn't who Kai was supposed to be all along: Kai who didn't like to hurt others but who'd fight if he had to, to protect the things important to him. Kai who was capable of fighting without losing himself in a haze of bloodlust, who could tell the difference between Haru and his father, and between those who lied to him and those who told the truth.

And Haru, now that he'd detoxed and Kai's abdomen had been scanned, opened up, stitched and was now healing nicely enough to be allowed out of bed. Apparently, abdominal organs could start leaking a bit after trauma and it was lucky nobody had listened to Kai's initial protests that he was fine after the initial stitches were in.

Haru would have probably signed himself out and then bled to death in his car, but Kai had always been better at listening to people.

He was pretty bad at sorting himself out. He'd claimed the only thing wrong, aside from the knife wound itself, was how it hurt when someone poked his stomach. Apparently a red flag for penetrating injuries to the abdomen… and hoarse voices were also a bad sign after being choked, but Haru had turned out alright after that incident. He'd have to do better, to make sure he didn't rub off on Kai and cause some detriment later down the road…

Because he really couldn't let go of Kai and, now, shame was the only reason to try. Kai remembered everything now, after all. Still, there were other hurdles to overcome: some of his own making and others not. Director Hiki had done something under the table again and recorded him as having been on an undercover investigation – so well hidden that the police hadn't managed to tease it out with their cursory research. Which meant he was covered for drug possession and drug use in relation to said case, as well as the costs for staying in the hospital for a week to detox from it, and compulsory sessions with the psychiatrist until he was cleared.

Apparently this was the same psychiatrist that Kai had walked out on, in the prelude to Toukoku-kai. The same guy Kai had been seeing since that time, in several different states and a vaster experience than Haru could ever claim – and maybe that was the problem. Or "a" problem. The grass was always greener on the other side but remembering and forgetting were both brutal sins and brutal teachers. And now they had to take care of the aftermath and Kai had it easier because, at least, he'd stayed true to himself and hadn't run, hadn't turned to drugs and dug himself into a bigger hole.

Kai didn't wind up staying long. Didn't say much, either. Just enough to tell Haru that his memories were back, that their friendship was still there, and that he fully expected the pair of them to be looking out for each other once they were both out of the hospital. That was assuming they'd be working together again. That was up to Director Hiki, really. And if he did go back to the Matori. Though he was kind of stuck, now. Quit and he'd face jail-time and he wasn't so apathetic to be indifferent about a jail sentence now that it was so close. And he did owe Director Hiki for trying to keep him out of jail…

'What were you trying to do?' he asked.

'I don't know,' Haru admitted. 'I wanted to forget Kai. Forget Ryuugen. But it just wasn't possible.'

'Yes, more than one people looked at Kai-kun with something akin to jealousy for that.' The director frowned. 'Quite cruel, from his perspective.'

'He said as much,' Haru sighed. 'That didn't stop me from thinking it again, and again… And in the end I'd stuffed my head and heart so full that I almost stumbled right into my grave and couldn't tell the difference between Kai, a hallucination and an imposter.' Which reminded him; no-one had explained that mess properly yet. Kai had brushed the subject off and said it'd been written as self-defence when he'd asked. Not the only thing Haru had been asking, but it was good to know Kai wouldn't be getting into trouble for stabbing and thus incapacitating a perpetrator. It had been necessary, by that point, when Kai and Nagakura combined couldn't subdue him without use of weapons, and the knife, as it turned out, had gone into the other's shoulder – far safer than the abdomen.

'The higher ups have accepted that they've made several crucial mistakes in handling the Ryuugen case,' Director Hiki explained. 'This last incident was a direct result of some of those: Kai, you and also the imposter who'd dressed up as Kai. He's an investigator with the TMP: Kirigaya Sousuke. He's also a childhood classmate and friend of Takasu Ryuusei – otherwise known as Sawaki.'

'Sawaki!' Haru exclaimed – but that made sense, objectively. Of course Sawaki – the demon that had killed his father and, sixteen years ago, Kai's father too and numerous people in between – had an identity outside being the left hand of the Ryuugen. And of course that child had gone to school, and come into contact with people from before the Ryuugen. But then the police had known that connection, to have sent an undercover investigator. 'They knew Sawaki's identity… From when?'

'Who knows,' Hiki shrugged. 'It's convenient, in some ways, that all the data was deleted.' And that, too, was news to Haru. 'The TMP can own up to their mistake for sending someone personally related to a perpetrator for an undercover investigation, but can plea ignorance on the extent of damage it caused. He killed the dealer you were accused of murdering, as well as another we had in custody. He attempted to kill you and Kai as well – or perhaps he'd been content to leave Kai with a life sentence, after framing him, since he didn't remember. That way, if he ever did show signs of remembering…'

He didn't need to finish that sentence. 'Right.' Haru stared at his hands. They still trembled a little, atop the covers, but it wasn't too bad now. Bearable. Unnoticeable if he was elsewhere occupied. 'So psychiatric help will magically fix where we've all fucked up along the way, and we all move on with our lives.'

'That is the plan. Unfortunately, that doesn't really consider long-term repercussions. I think you should see a grief counsellor too.'

Haru blinked at that. Grief for his father had been pretty far from his mind, all things considered. But that was a problem in itself, wasn't it? And his attempts to let go of Kai… hadn't that been a form of grieving too? 'Okay,' he agreed, and perhaps he was being more docile than normal but things finally looked like they were mending themselves and he could only go along with that.

The director looked surprised at his easy acquaintance, but he nodded anyway. 'That's good. And I hope you'll consider coming back to the Matori, too.'

Haru's lips quirked at that. 'Officer Ootsuki said I'd never left.'

'Well, I confess I locked your resignation letter up in my drawer and never processed it.' The director smiled. 'You know we all have our pasts with drugs, and nobody in the office would have judged you for what happened with the Ryuugen.'

'I know,' he admitted, 'but part of me did want to be judged. And another part of me wanted nothing to do with any of it anymore. Somehow, that all morphed into crossing the bridge.'

'And now you know, more than ever, why we need to get those dealers off the streets.'

Well, when he put it that way…

'And, of course, Kai will be back in a couple of weeks too.'

'Speaking of that,' Haru recalled, 'you sent him out on a case with cannula marks still there and looking like he'd fall over walking across half a campus?'

'It was that or watch him read through the reference room without food or drink or sleep,' Hiki shrugged. 'He was far less… obsessive once he'd gotten back from that mission.'

Hiki did know them too well. Like a father, almost, letting his wayward kids find their way in the world and make mistakes in the process, but fishing them out if they found themselves too deep into trouble. And he really had caused a lot of trouble, hadn't he. 'I'm sorry.'

Hiki's lips tweaked into a small smile. 'Come back to us and you're forgiven.'

'I…' Why was he even fighting that? 'Okay.'

Hiki smiled fully. 'Welcome back.'

And when the others came, equally forgiving and nobody blaming and all so happy to have him back that they managed to move him to tears, he was able to honestly say: 'It's good to be back,' even though he knew it wouldn't be as easy as that, despite how it now looked.

That was the problem, though. He hadn't fought for it enough: this idyllic scene.

'Kai-kun, Haru-kun. Be sure to look after each other from now on.'

And that was going to be harder than it sounded but, this time, he was going to hold on and not let go.

Post A/N:

Heart, lungs and brain are crucial to life, so things like the gut get turned off first when oxygen or blood's in short supply. In foetuses, the lungs aren't as important because the placenta does that job, so just heart and brain. Either way, if the brain is oxygen or nutrient starved, then it's very bad.

Cannabis legalisation - first happened in 2013 in Uruguay (though was legal in some American states in 2012 like Colorado), which is incidentally also when the major switch to smart-phones happened in Japan apparently. Though Switch mentions that Kai began work at the NCD in 2002 and he'd only been there for a year, give or take, by that point, so we're looking at Switch being set in 2003/04. Cannabis is still illegal in Japan regardless, and government places like the NCD and police get state of the art technology and that's why they have fancy phones that won't be mainstream for another few years?

Abdominal penetrative injuries (ie. Stab or gunshot wounds) – a very messy area, because there are lots of important organs there and not much in the way of protection. Chest has ribs, pelvis has the hip bones, brain has the skull etc. but abdomen's got none of that. The abdominal aorta also runs through there and it's possible to feel its pulsations in reasonably thin people, so you can imagine how easy it would be stab, relative to the heart which is tucked away beneath ribs and (in part) the sternum.

Peritonitis in the setting of abdominal penetrative injury while the patient is otherwise hemodynamically stale (aka. No signs that they're bleeding out or going into shock) is actually a red flag for hollow viscus (eg. Stomach, gallbladder, intestines…) injury. Peritonitis is inflammation of the lining of the abdominal organs, and reflected by tenderness (pain on touching), and more specifically rebound/percussion tenderness (which is when you push/tap, and when you let go the pain is there/stronger on the rebound). I blame the surgical tutorial for this.

Shoulder stab wounds aren't all nice and fluffy, since you've got a pretty big artery (subclavian, which then becomes brachial) and the nerve plexus that spits out branches to move your entire arm (brachial plexus), but your only killer in that area is the subclavian/brachial and it's nowhere near as big as a part of the aorta which is what you have in the abdomen. Aside from aorta, there's all these hollow organs that can spill into the abdominal cavity and cause all sorts of messes. Not the best place to incapacitate someone (because most of those effects are on the slow side, sans aorta) and a horrible way to suicide. Shoulder just seemed more sensible in trying to incapacitate someone.

Kirigaya's role wound up half-changing. Whoops? That wasn't the original plan, but the Haru on drugs vine sort of wound up there and that was integral to this story. More on that is explained on Kai's side, too, since he was the one who kept on running into him.

I think everything else I explained in story or will explain in the next part, or is from canon.