To prevent his friend from being further distracted and worried while already overwhelmed, Hiromitsu Morofushi agreed on the surface that he would not continue to pry into Yamawashi, but he still decided to try one last time.
Yamawashi was not the highest-ranking member they could currently contact, nor was he the only high-ranking member they had connections with, but without a doubt, aside from Yamawashi being able to provide him with intelligence unconditionally while simultaneously minimizing the risk of exposure, there was no other candidate.
Upon arriving near the Safe House, he saw from a distance that the living room lights were on.
His brow relaxed unconsciously as he quickened his pace, unable to tell if it was because of that light or the person inside.
I'm back.. Yamawashi?" Hiromitsu Morofushi closed the door and walked quickly toward the person on the sofa, "Yamawashi?
As soon as he leaned over, he smelled the scent of alcohol. He frowned and gently pushed the shoulder of the youth who was slumped unconscious against the back of the sofa, but the man fell straight down, his head heading directly for the corner of the coffee table. His pupils constricted, he moved with lightning speed to catch him.
“.. You leaned in yourself.” Hiromitsu Morofushi sighed. Even if Yamawashi really intended to hit him, there was nothing he could do; he couldn't just stand by and watch Yamawashi crack his head open right in front of him.
".. Let go." A hoarse reprimand drifted slowly from his embrace.
"So you were awake." Hiromitsu Morofushi breathed a sigh of relief.
Since he was going to be angry anyway, he simply settled the person comfortably before stepping back. He sat down at the other end of the sofa, not so close as to upset Yamawashi, but not so far as to be unable to react if something went wrong.
“Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”
Yamawashi's gaze slowly drifted over, his eyes appearing as if soaked in moonlight, slightly cool yet not as cold as usual.
This wasn't the first time he had seen Yamawashi after drinking, but it was the most he had ever seen him drink.
Thinking of the time he had seen him drunk before, Hiromitsu Morofushi averted his gaze uncomfortably, his voice unconsciously rising and sounding particularly abrupt in the empty living room: "Who were you drinking with? Drinking this much.. it must feel terrible, right?"
"You're being very loud," Yamawashi said.
Hiromitsu Morofushi turned his head and asked, "With whom?"
“With whom?” Yamawashi enunciated clearly, but his speaking pace was much slower than usual, making his words, which had originally carried a chilling edge, feel less distant. "Are you interrogating me?"
.. I simply made the most rational, objective, safe judgment based on my position." Hiromitsu Morofushi looked at the ceiling and then at the floor, but he didn't dare turn his head. "You've been drinking, quite a lot at that. If you were to accidentally expose Scotland's secrets..
He found himself unable to continue speaking.
I'll go make some hangover soup.
Yamawashi stood up immediately, his body swaying slightly. Even if that man were drunk, he could still pin him to the ground and beat him, he wouldn't be knocked down by this level of intoxication. Hiromitsu Morofushi didn't worry needlessly and headed straight for the kitchen.
“Objective.. Safe?”
A hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. The voice, which had been at a slight distance just a moment ago, rang in his ear the next second. Hiromitsu Morofushi's hair stood on end; the sense of horror was no less than having a ghost behind him. Having grown accustomed to being unilaterally targeted by Yamawashi, he had no intention of fighting back, instead, his footsteps instinctively quickened once more.
“Rationality?”
He felt a tugging sensation at his collar, the next second, the world spun. Hiromitsu Morofushi was left half-lying on the floor, the back of his neck pressed against the edge of the sofa, with Yamawashi pressing down on him. He held his breath, perhaps because Yamawashi was still clutching his collar, or perhaps because Yamawashi was too close.. for whatever the reason, he felt a bit oxygen-deprived.
He had seen Yamawashi drink, but not as much as this time; he wasn't sure what Yamawashi might do, or if Yamawashi would even refrain from killing him.
The clock ticked steadily, their movements inexplicably came to a halt. It should have been the prelude to a fierce battle, yet not a single person made a sound, even their breathing grew faint.
Hiromitsu Morofushi's fingers curled slightly as he slowly raised his hand to touch Yamawashi's cheek.
He was somewhat surprised, because that face was actually dry, with no tears.
Looking into those eyes, he actually had a momentary illusion that Yamawashi was crying.
Thinking this way would be too disrespectful to him.
.. Do you want to do it?" Yamawashi said. "You look like you'd do it with a man, too.
Hiromitsu Morofushi froze, his tongue failing him: "You.. you just.."
Yamawashi suddenly turned her head, her cheek pressing against his hand before he could pull it back. Hiromitsu Morofushi was startled by the warmth of her palm, his speech became more fluent. "What did you just say? I misheard you.."
Yamawashi did not answer him, instead murmuring as if to herself, "Sometimes I think it would be better if it were me, but if the person being controlled by Public Security were me, it wouldn't have the effect it has now, you would still end up taking action against him."
.. How do you know he won't save you?
A hint of amusement welled up in Yamawashi's eyes. Hiromitsu Morofushi felt a burning sensation in his eyes, yet he did not look away.
Yamawashi slowly leaned closer to him, the scent of alcohol following her approach. He seemed a little drunk as well; Hiromitsu Morofushi felt as if his heart had stopped beating, it was only after a long while that the world regained its sound.
Yamawashi leaned close to his ear and said, "Didn't I say it long ago? To play Scotland well, the first step is to not care about me. Inspector, how could you actually fall in love with me?"
“..”
That body was pressed almost flush against him, the strands of hair brushing against the side of his neck felt ticklish.
You're always looking at me. Every time I turn around, I can see your eyes.. Do you like my face? Or is there somewhere else you like?
I should refute that, Hiromitsu Morofushi thought, looking at the clock hanging on the wall.
I must refute it.
The second hand ticked twice, he opened his mouth, but found himself speechless.
After a long time, the hand suspended in mid-air descended onto the back of the person lying beneath him, turning into an incomplete embrace.
In this moment, he suddenly understood every silence in Yamawashi's interactions with Scotland. He could not deny that, by embracing this body once more, he no longer simply wanted to confirm whether that person's soul was still in this world.
The blossoming of feelings is a sin. He could not honestly voice his thoughts, nor did he have the standing to express them; it was an impropriety that should not exist. If the dam had already burst and could no longer be stopped, then at the very least, he should not have allowed his strangeness to be noticed.
After being reborn, the only variable was perhaps that he had lost to Yamawashi from the very beginning.
“.. I'm sorry.” He couldn't tell exactly what he was apologizing for, or even to whom he was apologizing; he simply murmured the words once more.
The person in his arms actually reached out to embrace him, gently patting his back with such tenderness that it reminded him of a nap he had taken in Nagano when he was a child—a peacefulness to which he could never return.
It's okay." Yamawashi gently pressed his head into the crook of his neck, "Because I'm going to threaten you, too.
Waver for me, even if it's only for a single moment.
Loving someone is not a crime; failing to love is.
-----------------------
Author's Note: Yamawashi: I am guilty, but my love is innocent.
Scotland: I am innocent, but my love is guilty.
Chapter 30
Yamawashi said she would threaten him, but in reality, for a long time afterward, Yamawashi not only didn't force him to do anything, but even began to care about his thoughts, which was far more terrifying than mere impunity.
In the early morning, Hiromitsu Morofushi opened his eyes right on time. Yamawashi was already eating breakfast; seeing him, Yamawashi said nothing, merely giving a casual nod.
And on the other side of the dining table, an identical breakfast to the one in front of Yamawashi lay quietly waiting.
Yamawashi did not make any deliberate attempt to be pleasing; he remained quiet and aloof, yet he would prepare an extra portion for him while making breakfast. Sometimes, when he woke up earlier, the breakfast he had subconsciously prepared in excess would no longer be poured out unchanged.
This kind of life seemed not much different from the past, yet it also felt like a complete upheaval. He was at a loss, because he couldn't even distinguish between Yamawashi's calculated moves and normal behavior.
Yamawashi demanded nothing from him; instead, he proactively opened the doors to a mysterious world that he had struggled for so long to explore. The attraction from the unknown bit away at the boundaries that should have been irreconcilable between them, bit by bit. He was well aware of the danger of falling in; the more cautious he became, the more clearly he saw Yamawashi's indulgence.
The afternoon's mission was still to be carried out with Yamawashi. Yamawashi left ahead of him as usual. Just as he had let out a sigh of relief, not even half a minute later, he opened the door to find Yamawashi leaning against the doorway. Yamawashi gave him a casual glance and stepped out.
Hiromitsu Morofushi froze for a moment, then jogged a few steps to catch up. Neither of them said a word. Upon arriving at the parking lot, Yamawashi opened the driver's side door quite naturally. As if finally finding a topic of conversation, he stepped forward and said, "Yamawashi!!"
Yamawashi threw a questioning look. As their eyes met, he explained a moment too late, "I'll drive."
Yamawashi didn't ask for a reason and instead moved to the passenger seat.
Hiromitsu Morofushi found that he held a strange, inexplicable impression of Yamawashi. Even though he seemed no different from an ordinary person in daily life, with tastes and habits just like anyone else and no money-burning hobbies, he still subconsciously felt that the sight of Yamawashi driving for someone was far too out of place.
It was only when he sat in this car with Yamawashi for the first time that he remembered this car had been a gift from Yamawashi.
To be precise, it wasn't exactly a gift. One day, Yamawashi notified him about a car located somewhere and told him to drive it to a certain place and park it. Once that was settled, he asked if there were any further instructions, Yamawashi said there were none for now, telling him to use the car directly whenever he needed it. After that, the car keys remained in his hands, Yamawashi never mentioned this low-profile but incredibly expensive car again.
At the red light intersection, his fingers tightened around the steering wheel as Hiromitsu Morofushi said, "I'm afraid today's mission carries some risk."
“Don't worry.” Yamawashi looked straight ahead, his tone flat, “Do your part, I'll take care of the rest.”
“.. Yes.”
Yamawashi liked quiet; he didn't like listening to others talk too much, he himself didn't speak often, yet his voice seemed to contain some kind of mysterious power. Combined with his calm, emotionless tone, it still made people feel that as long as he was there, everything would be fine.
Not only did he sound reliable, but in reality, there truly wasn't any problem at all.
In this mission, Yamawashi was never given the chance to pull the trigger; at the end of the mission, he gazed at that slender silhouette through the scope, remaining silent for a long time.
Yamawashi's physique was not the type that exerted overwhelming pressure; his muscles were lean and streamlined, his back was always held perfectly straight. Rather than terror or murderous intent, what one felt most was a sense of beauty that blurred gender preferences. Yamawashi's good looks were indisputable, yet they did not inspire a protective instinct. The Organization never relied on Yamawashi's appearance, no one would think he had secured his position within the Organization through his looks.
Hiromitsu Morofushi gazed at his mission partner; he knew that a person who looked so indestructible was actually covered in scars.
The only person left standing in the area turned his head without warning, causing Hiromitsu Morofushi to freeze for a moment.
Yamawashi stood alone amidst the mess, his expression remaining calm; no matter the moment, whether it was an easy mission or when victory was already certain, Yamawashi always appeared to be in his most serious state during a mission.
He was an expert sniper, so he knew perfectly well that it was impossible to actually make eye contact at such a distance, yet he still experienced the illusion that their gazes had truly met.
This wasn't the first time he had provided cover for Yamawashi during a mission, but it was the first time Yamawashi had looked toward his position.
Yamawashi's lips moved slightly, almost at the same time, a cold voice came through the earpiece, sounding as if it were whispered right against his ear: "Good work."
.. He clearly hadn't done anything.
Just like the first time he carried out a mission with Alaya.
On the way back, he drove again. Yamawashi sat in the back seat with the sniper rifle, Hiromitsu Morofushi saw in the rearview mirror that Yamawashi was leaning down to wipe the dagger, while his rifle rested partially against Yamawashi's lap, Yamawashi occasionally wiped the sniper scope as well.
As the past was unveiled, the origin of that dagger gradually became clear. The first user, who had gained some fame, died in a tragic suicide pact, but the next generation who inherited the dagger used it to make a name for themselves in Training Camp No. 57. Yet, even though he had become the strongest among that former group of killers, he ultimately fell at the hands of Alaya. From then on, the dagger completely changed hands, Alaya became famous once again with it.
Even though it was so clear, he still felt it was strange. Just as his first reaction to discovering Yamawashi smoked was that a person like Yamawashi could actually be addicted to something, he was surprised that Yamawashi would pay such close attention or care so much about something, considering Yamawashi seemed to be someone who cared about nothing.
Perhaps the dagger holds some special significance for Yamawashi, such as having once saved his life, or some other important turning point.
The gray-haired young man in the backseat suddenly looked up, Hiromitsu Morofushi hurriedly withdrew his gaze, pretending he hadn't done anything, while his mind was still preoccupied with what had just happened.
He didn't know Yamawashi well, so it was understandable that he had misconceptions without any evidence. After all, in the past, he had never expected that Yamawashi truly liked Scotland; Yamawashi liked a dagger, whereas Scotland was liked by Yamawashi. Comparing the two, the former was much more ordinary and nothing to dwell on.
That evening, they had dinner together.
It all started when Yamawashi suddenly brought up the soup he had cooked once right after his rebirth. He knew it was a deliberate prop used to soften his attitude, Yamawashi also knew he could guess it; ultimately, he accepted the proposal. As he rolled up his sleeves to prepare dinner, Yamawashi leaned against the kitchen doorway and watched him quietly. He never turned around during the whole process, Yamawashi didn't say a word, but he guessed Yamawashi was likely watching him with that same expression he used when reading.
Recently, Yamawashi has returned to his old habits, leaning back on the sofa to read for a while before bed. This is one of the few hobbies of Yamawashi's that he knows clearly and can understand. When he went to the bookstore where Ino Seigo works, he bought a variety of books; he hadn't brought them out before because he thought Yamawashi wouldn't accept them, but now he was afraid that Yamawashi actually would.
“Your cooking is excellent,” Yamawashi said, putting down his spoon.
Yamawashi always ate very quickly, with finishing a meal in five minutes being the norm; however, during this period, he had intentionally slowed down his pace. This also meant he couldn't decide how long it was better to take; eating too fast seemed like he was intentionally disrespecting Yamawashi, while eating too slowly made him feel restless under Yamawashi's gaze. Even when hearing praise, it was difficult to smile sincerely, so he could only reply with feigned composure, "I'm glad you like it."
“Mm, I like it very much.” Yamawashi wiped his mouth with a napkin, completely ignoring his awkward yet polite smile, continued, “I’ll be heading out for a bit tomorrow. If something comes up, you can call me; I'll pick up.”