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When Kiryuu is seven he steals his first Duel Monsters card off of an older boy during a scuffle. It’s a lot harder than pinching coins or even knives. Everyone keeps their cards close to their heart — in their inner jacket pockets or strapped tight against their waist. But he manages to wiggle it out of the holster in between a punch, sends all the cards scattering across the ground which is enough of a distraction to break up the fight.
Not that it mattered, he was winning anyway.
He won’t remember what the card is, ten years later. It probably won’t be in his deck, even. He has trouble with the kanji, but there’s furigana that marks the way. It’s his pride and joy, for at least a little while. It’s his most important item, until he steals a four inch serrated knife, three months later.
—
“Come on, look alive!”
Security tries to shake people down for their goods, twice a week. It’s a rotating shift of guards and they bang on the doors, the windows, break anything that looks fragile. The first time they came by Kiryuu’s place they kicked down the door, laughed at the kids who scrambled out of the way of the old wood and rock dust.
“Satellite scum’s got to pay their dues.”
It’s the first time Kiryuu loses a fight. He has a bit of a rep around his area. He’s been fighting since he can remember and he always wins. Even when he gets knocked down he just gets up again and tears into someone. (Yamada down the street calls him crazy, laughs it off, says it’s a good trait. Blood in the eyes never backs down.)
But Security carry heavy batons, solid boots and their uniforms are made of good cloth that doesn’t rip so easily. The boys come by later and find him curled up on the ground spitting blood and tears and furiously trying to make both stop.
“Finally got your ass kicked, huh?”
“Didn’t get up this time, kinda shame.”
None of them offer him a hand up, so Kiryuu hauls himself up to his knees. Then he stands. He sways, he bares his teeth and forces a grin.
“Next time,” he promises. The boys clap him on the back and it’s in this that Kiryuu finds true belonging.
—
He’s fifteen when he breaks up with the boys. They have a difference of direction. Kiryuu gets it they want to stay being small timers. They’re satisfied with beating back at Security every now and then, keying D-Wheels and stealing from the factories. They’re satisfied with small power struggles and carving out a small piece of territory.
They’re all about maintaining and he can see how small their thoughts are. It’s funny, he didn’t see it before, but as he gets older — and at fifteen he’s ancient and wise and can see the truth of everything — he sees it.
“There’s so much more to this,” Kiryuu tries to convince them to stay. The boys laugh and shrug and saunter off and honestly it wasn’t like they were going to stick around anyway. They all knew it. They were just temporary allies.
Kiryuu always was thinking of greater things than just them.
—
Two years after he breaks up with the boys Kiryuu meets another set of boys. They’re truly boys too, not young men with a swagger and step who have been on the streets long enough to only think of pettiness and blood. They’re boys who are full of hope and he loves them immediately.
Jack is so full of promise and ambition. It’s Jack who immediately agrees with Kiryuu. Satellite is terrible, Satellite is dirty and hopeless and — yes, Jack believes in change. Jack believes in changing it for the better because this is where they have to live and they deserve more.
Crow is a good kid. He’s not as abrupt as Jack, nods along a bit, frowns a little, snorts and pulls a crooked grin. He adds in that the kids, too, deserve better. That they all are living here, if Security is a joke then they need to look out for each other.
And Yuusei. . . it’s in Yuusei that Kiryuu sees his own adoration reflecting back at him. Yuusei who trusts him immediately, who believes. So, it’s Yuusei that Kiryuu slings an arm around and pulls close and grounds him a little in the group.
“Team Satisfaction, let’s change our home.”
Yuusei mouths our home along with him. They’re going to make a difference.
—
The thing Kiryuu loves about Yuusei is that he doesn’t hold back. Sometimes it takes him a while to make up his mind but once he commits, there’s no going back. Kiryuu asks Yuusei to come along — just the two of them — to a different kind of raid. No duel disks, no cards, it’s a straight up fist fight and Yuusei thinks it over.
“I’ll need the support,” Kiryuu flashes a grin.
Yuusei agrees then, and Kiryuu can practically see determination harden up behind Yuusei’s eyes. He’s counting on it.
It’s not a brief fight. It’s one of the longest in Kiryuu’s recent memory. There’s only seven guys — but there’s only two of them, too. Kiryuu doesn’t have time to see how Yuusei’s doing, doesn’t even have time to taunt or yell, just laugh and breathe and breathe harder. He can hear Yuusei next to him though, the sharp exhales he makes when he’s punched, the sound of his shoes on the concrete — skidding, dragging debris — and of course, Yuusei wastes breaths saying: “Kiryuu — “
They’re both a mess, at the end of it. Kiryuu can feel part of his lip hang off awkwardly, it must have split and ripped against knuckles and his teeth. He’ll have a black eye, a bruised rib, maybe a handful of them and he twisted his ankle. Next to him, Yuusei’s face is suspiciously clean but there’s a bruise the length and width of a forearm across his neck.
“Kiryuu — “ Yuusei breathes, reaches out both hands and ghosts the over Kiryuu’s shoulders and sides and then carefully his face. “You okay?”
“Just bruises, Yuusei! Besides, look around you! Look at what we did! This is all ours now, we did it.” His elation is infectious, it should be. Yuusei cracks a smile, but his hands don’t fall back to his sides, his thumbs stay hovering over Kiryuu’s cheeks not quite touching. “What’s that look for, Yuusei?”
“Nothing.” Yuusei drops his hands.
—
The stucco wall is rough. Kiryuu hears it tear into Yuusei’s jacket, a stuttering ripping sound that is far too loud. They’re both trying to be quiet, pressed together in the small alley just off a major hub of traffic. It’s Satellite traffic, so over half of it is on foot and footsteps don’t give nearly enough cover.
There’s blood in Yuusei’s hair from where a lead pipe cracked his skull earlier. Kiryuu’s index finger and thumb are swollen and bruised from catching the pipe — to keep it from bashing in Yuusei’s skull. One of them must have gotten cut, there’s slick blood between their bodies and all over their shirts, but neither has stopped to check how bad the gash is.
The kissing is painful. Kiryuu’s lips are bruised from punches and from elbows and the left side of Yuusei’s face is rough from being dragged across the pavement.
But the important part is that they had won, again. They were reclaiming their home. They were making it theirs. Kiryuu couldn’t help it, he laughs, ecstatic and tracks kisses and teeth down Yuusei’s neck in celebration. Yuusei lets him in, holds him gently by the hips and whispers his name like it’s salvation.
—
They leave him to rot. They leave him to rot. They betray him — Yuusei betrays him — and leaves him to rot.
It’s too easy, because the first time they left him alone with nothing — not even his cards — Kiryuu could press his face to the thin hard bed and think of better times. He could wrap an arm around himself and think of better times. He could imagine when they hadn’t left him to rot. Team Satisfaction had been all of them. Kiryuu could imagine remaking his home, reclaiming Satellite for himself, he could imagine Yuusei at his side.
So, it’s all too easy. All he has to do is think of what’s even better than returning to the arms of traitors. He can lay on his back and look up into the darkness of his ceiling and imagine what’s even better than being left behind by Yuusei.
One good deed deserves another.
—
When it’s all said and done, Kiryuu visits Yuusei. He packs Nico and West a travel bag each, but they have to take a car because there isn’t enough room for three on a D-Wheel. The sensation of traveling into Neo Domino in a car is foreign, just as unusual as the bright highways and shining buildings and completed bridge.
He probably should have called ahead, it’s not like they hadn’t kept in touch at all. Instead he ushers the kids into the lobby, asks them to behave and stay put he’ll only be a moment inside. Nico and West exchange a look before, in unison, promising to be good. He can feel their amusement and it’s almost embarrassing. What an odd feeling.
Yuusei’s looking out the window when Kiryuu finds him. Not at his desk, not in the lab, just sequestered away in a coffee break room with a small table and terrible coffee machine. But there’s a window that overlooks the city.
“Hey,” Kiryuu says.
Yuusei stands up, abruptly, his hands fumble with the front of his coat — lab coat, how different — before finding his pockets and disappearing. The smile he gives is so familiar, even if his eyes drift back towards the window.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I didn’t either.”
“Kiryuu, I want to apolo — “
“Yuusei.” He doesn’t let Yuusei finish that. “Nico and West came too. I told them I wouldn’t be very long, but we should meet up. I’ll be in town for a while.”
Yuusei bows his head and Kiryuu can see his lips moving wordlessly, before he looks back up again.
“I’d like that.”
I’ve returned.
Welcome home.