A colorful AU!

[crab_rangoon]

The world is gray. Always gray. He had thought once, as a little boy, that the emergence of color would be a wonderful thing. He used to dream that finding that person, that getting to see everything in brilliant Wizard Of Oz technicolor would be something he would always cover until it happened.

But after Ishwari, after the betrayal and the loss, after Ajay and Lakshmana left to America after Mohan's failed assassination attempt, Pagan just gave up on that dream. Love, he decided, was just for those who have given up on themselves. Not worth the trouble.

Yuma became the face of Kyrat after that and Pagan stepped back, letting her handle the death threats and the rebels and all of the bullshit that he just didn't want to deal with. Pagan ruled from the back, tempering Yuma's impulsive bullshit with a cooler head, though no less ruthless. However, the arrangement left him free to roam the world, taking care of his business in Hong Kong and the mainland unmolested. His father might not have had the desire to rule the Triads, but Pagan sure as fuck does. Even if it means he has to go and do things himself.

It's this reason, chasing spineless Hong Kong assholes, that lands him in Japan. He has a small security detail that walks the crowd, but otherwise Pagan is by himself as he walks the streets, checking his phone for his victim's last location.

Daniel and Connor

[choosetoforget]

Daniel's been having the dreams again. They come almost every night, waking him from even the deepest sleep. And there's always the same name that remains in his memory.

Connor.

He knows what it means, of course. Everyone has dreams like that. Everyone dreams of their soulmate, of the one that they're meant to be with, whether that includes intimacy or not, but he's nearly twenty three now and every Connor he's ever met has let him down. Granted, there were only two and one was in a primary class and the other was a server at a restaurant he went to, but he still feels like it could have been better.

Instead of trying to go to sleep, to face the dreams that he knows are coming, he makes himself some tea and watches the lights from the city out of his window. It might be the early evening, but the CyberLife tower in the distance remains illuminated.

Strange, he thinks, after the riots and what he's seen on the news, that the night seems calm. The kettle whistles and he takes it off the stove, then decides against it.

Tea isn't going to fix anything.

He wants a drink. Pulling on his coat and his boots against the snow, he steps out of his little rental and starts walking along the sidewalk, stopping only when a taxi pulls to a park beside him and someone walks out.

"Oh. Good evening."