openmisc | A colorful AU!

A colorful AU!

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.

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He almost gives the basic explanation before realizing that of all people, Pagan will understand the true depths of the problem. He dips his head towards the picture.

"The baby's father is the spare heir to the Saio triad, or he was before I convinced Big Lo to leave and let him live his life." And blood was everything to that organization. The only one who could run it was a blood descendant, for one, which was why the youngest child had been sent away, treated as an orphan even if he was being kept in case of emergencies. And so much trouble was started because the original heir had decided on a risky venture that got him killed. That the grandchild existed was one problem. That he had Japanese heritage another. It was both a comfort and a frustration that even when it had nothing to do with him, his family was never safe.

"They were hit by a car. The only reason Haruto-kun survived is because Haruka-chan shielded him with her body. She was in a coma for weeks."

He keeps his voice steady. Barely.

"Her mother and I grew up together in the orphanage. Her soulmate tried to kill her, and their child, for political convenience. He succeeded with the mother. I took her in after that."

He knows just how poisonous some soulmates can be. Kyohei Jingu was all the example he'd ever needed.

Pagan certainly does understand. If his mother hadn't died, his father would have absolutely tried to have another son. A better son. And 'gotten rid' of Pagan in the process. He never wanted him to take over the Triad, third rate as it was at the time.

He swallows hard as he listens, keeping his own emotions pushed down.

Well. Sort of. He does reach over and lay his hand on Kiryu's. It's the most he's heard the other man talk and all of it is - so relatable.

"And you can't see either one of them."

It's not a question. And it's painful.

Edited 2022-02-25 18:58 (UTC)

He shakes his head.

"The deal was that I died, and they would be kept safe. Haruka, Haruto, Yuta" the father, "and the others." Adopted, but no less his. "This city is the most dangerous... but also the most safe."

Because yes, he was known here. But he was also loved here. And the people here? Cared more about him than they did what the Japanese government wanted. There was a kook on every street, a weirdo in every alley, a shopkeeper in every shop, that owed him. That he'd bought from, tipped, looked out for, helped in a real way.

Even the bums on the street had more regard for him. And for good reason.

"I can't go back there. Here... is as close as I get."

"I sent Ishwari and Ajay and Lakshmana to America," he says. "For the same reason. Ishwari and I - it didn't work out. But the children were better with their mother. I talk and visit when I can but - "

Never enough. It's never enough time with his children.

"Do they know...that you're alive?"

He shakes his head.

Then he wobbles a hand.

"Haruka-chan has always been able to smell a lie. Since she was small."

She knows, even if she keeps that secret in her heart.

That must be a relief...and amazingly frustrating. He moves his hand from Kiryu's and thinks a moment.

"It sounds like you need a vacation," he points out after a long moment of silence. He's not dismissing him at all; rather, he's trying his best to stay with him. To keep him and his story close.

Goddammit, is this the mystical bond or is this real?

He's annoyed that he doesn’t know. "How do you feel about the mountains?"

"I've heard they're nice," he says honestly, because this feels very hypothetical. He's so used to the situation that is his life at this point that the idea of a way out is... he can't even think of one.

Pagan takes a drink, never moving his eyes from Kiryu's face.

"Come back with me," he says. "To Kyrat. Just for a while. I'm not asking you to give up anything here. But I will be going in a week. A few days. Whenever I get bored. And you. You should come with me. See the mountains. Swim in a waterfall. I don't know." He gestures broadly. "Drink with me in a palace for a while."

Kiryu looks surprised, then longing... and then, Pagan will get to watch in real time as he shuts down the very idea.

"I don't have a passport. And my contact... may not approve."

Pagan shooes away those thoughts with a wave of his hand. Because he hates that look on his face.

"Oh, that's not for people like me. A fake passport will get you far enough. Besides, I wonder if your contact will have something to say to the goddamn King of Kyrat. I'm sure we can work out something."

There's a part of him that kept glossing over that fact but now that Pagan's repeated it, his eyes go a little wide. A king.

A king. And he's...

Well, he's been involved with a few international incidents. He's unsure of how this is all going to play out, if this is going to end well or-

Or not well. His luck would say 'not well'.

So he swallows.

"He might."

"Dictator" is still the common moniker for Pagan, but he doesn't like to throw that word around for no reason.

"Good. Get me a meeting," he says idly, inspecting his fingers. "Now, that's settled." Because Pagan cannot imagine a scenario where he wouldn't get his way.

He watches Pagan for a moment, watches him inspect his fingers, and he straightens his shoulders a little. Pagan is a king. Pagan... is a great big block of concrete in the little pond that he's managed. He can either be a centerpiece... or throw everything into disarray.

"I can do that.

"After you tell me what your intentions are."

You don't get to throw his arrangement into chaos and potentially endanger his children on a whim. This isn't a vacation. If they're going to make this known to anyone besides the two of them, he's going to need guarantees.

He knows his reputation: he's never doublecrossed anyone. He's never betrayed anyone.

He can't say he knows Pagan's on that score.

Edited 2022-02-25 21:33 (UTC)

Oh he likes this. Pagan grins, a playful sort of expression, and steeples his fingers.

"My intentions are to figure you out, and I can't do it when you're on your home turf." He does know his reputation and he knows his own. Not as ruthless as he could have been, had Mohan accomplished what he set out to do, but Pagan's path to the crown is soaked in blood. There is no civil war under Pagan and Yuma, as Mohan's attempted infanticide effectively killed the Golden Path before it could take root, but there's no denying that Pagan and Yuma keep the country under strict guidance.

Besides all that, Pagan the Triad leader has his own reputation outside of King Min. Serving up his own father's head to the other bosses certainly made a point, after all. He's not the underhanded sort, preferring everything be upfront. Clean. He has his own motivations, but they're hardly secret.

So he doesn't have anything to hide when he answers. "And you have seen me...like this. But this is only one side. If we want to do something about this, you need to know me. And I need to know you. In whatever form that takes. Of course, there's always the quick and dirty way, if you don't believe my words."

He spreads his hands out. "You mentioned it earlier. A little old fashioned, but - well. Who am I to judge?"

He knows exactly where a fight will lead, but he's willing to put in the effort.

"If you can't do it here, you can't do it anywhere," he says back, "what you see is what you get."

Just to be clear: he is who he is. And he's always been that man, from the 20 year old who took on the whole Tojo Clan in his rage and his grief to the 'bodyguard' who defended Watase and his own adopted son while they dissolved everything he'd worked for for the last fifteen years. The world might change, but he doesn't.

He looks Pagan up and down.

"I won't hold back."

It's probably the most polite way he could say 'I'm going to beat the shit out of you' he possibly has.

But Pagan doesn't know that. And he's not taking chances with an unknown person. He knows the stories he's heard of this man, but they're exaggerated and hardly worth looking into.

He wants to see.

He takes a drink, unconcerned with the warning.

"Well, I sure as fuck hope you don't. It wouldn't mean anything otherwise."

He’ll see just how exaggerated (and not exaggerated) they really are soon enough.

Kiryu raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘your funeral’ but he’ll nod.

“Not here. But I know a place we can fight without being disturbed.”

"Obviously not here."

He finishes his drink and sets it down. "Besides, I need to change my clothes."

Kiryu drinks his own drink… and then he’s focused on eating his portion of the food. Like hell is he wasting good Kanrai.

Hopefully it’ll give Pagan time to consider what else he might want.

“We can meet up again at the entrance to the casino. It’s the same building.”

Pagan picks up his chopsticks again and chooses something else to try, finds it delightful (as he has everything else up to now) and pulls it close. "Is it now? What a very versatile building," he comments lightly.

He's not concerned about getting hurt. He's not concerned about Kiryu going all out. He knows how these things go, and god if he doesn't want to see him in his element.

"Don't forget your own little errand today," he says with a smile. "The one I so rudely interrupted with my presence."

"I'll go back for them later," he says honestly, "Kamiyama works all hours. And he knows I don't follow business hours. He'll have them when I go to get them."

He takes another box himself because he wants to have plenty of fuel if they're going to be fighting.

"My master, Komaki, kept a dojo in there for a time. As far as I know, it's still there while he's traveling."

Pagan can't help but be impressed by that. He knows this city, even better than Pagan knows Hong Kong. Well, now anyway.

"Fortunately for you," he points out. "What did you train in?"

"The Komaki arts cover a few areas," he says before putting aside the box. "Sword. Hand to hand. Even gun defense."

...the old man wanted martial arts you could use in an actual fight.

Pagan's eyebrows raise and he sets aside his own chopsticks. "Well, well, well. Tall, dark, handsome, and dangerous. I like it."

It was never really a question.

He raises an eyebrow back; don’t patronize him, Pagan. You know his reputation at least well enough to assume that. He considers how to address it.

“The fight in Fukuoka. It was 100. Not 200. Not 1000. But it was 100.”

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