Work Text:
Going back to their apartment felt wrong in too many ways to count for Kazuki as he stepped through the door of the darkened hall. He kicked his shoes off out of habit, only to make the mistake of glancing down to see the tiny pink child slippers beside his shoes. His heart seemed to shrivel into itself even further at the sight, but Kazuki refused to let his emotions to the surface.
This was for the best anyway. He had to remind himself of that. Miri was never meant to come into their lives, and though he would not trade a single moment of it for the world, their lifestyle was not fitted to playing at normal family life. They were hitmen. Killers. Their line of work was no place for a child as bright as Miri. They had been living a dream they didn’t deserve.
Kazuki had been living a dream he didn’t deserve.
Kyu was right. It was time for the dream to end.
Kazuki heard more than watched Rei leave the room, and while Kazuki, more than anything, didn’t want to feel like anyone else was leaving him, the moment the door closed he found himself letting out a breath he had held since they first walked through the apartment.
He felt relief—relief that no one else could see his mask begin to break, to see the water that blurred his vision, or the tremble of his body as he gave in to the wave of grief. For the first time since he realized he was about to lose one of the only people in this world he had left, Kazuki let himself fall.
There was no one around to convince he was fine. Rei was locked up in his own room—and while the back of Kazuki’s mind worried about him, knowing his harmful habit of suppressing his feelings, he knew he wouldn’t be able to check up on his partner in this state. He didn’t want Rei to see him like this. He didn’t want anyone to ever see him like this.
***
Rei closed his eyes and didn’t open them for several long moments. When he did, the reflection in the glass didn’t change. His twin in the mirror still had that haunted look in his eyes and the anguished frown on his chapped lips.
While Rei knew his appearance had never been as prim and proper (aside from when he was on the job) he had never seen himself look this bad. It was almost as if the reflection in the mirror wasn’t even him. He could almost act like it was just a character in one of his games—one who just watched his little girl leave them for good.
He bowed over the sink, hair falling over his face. In the beginning, he had been skeptical of having a child around and even more skeptical of Kazuki for allowing it. His partner had been so adamant about their dangerous lifestyle and how it was kinder to not getting involved that Rei wasn’t even allowed to have a cat.
But then that little girl had changed him, taught him so much he never would have learned without her. She was the reason he looked out at what the world had to offer a little more rather than just staying inside like he had. Sure he was still a hermit, but she had made progress in him. That was something even Kazuki hadn’t been able to do.
He thought of her bright eyes and her smile and the adorable way she laughed and the first time she had ever called him ‘Rei Papa’—and his heart ached.
She was gone now. Safer away from them. From him.
He couldn’t forget his father’s warnings. He had already made subtle threats towards Kazuki—which Rei still had to find a way to avoid. He wouldn’t let the organization hurt him. Not after everything he had done for Rei.
Kazuki.
There was no way he was as ok with all this as he acted. Rei had seen the way he had hugged Miri in the mall, the tears in his eyes, the smile he had put on second later to hide the pain in his face.
Rei knew about his partner’s past—though Kazuki didn’t know that Rei had taken a look into his file. He knew the loss he had faced. How this was not his first time losing a child.
Kazuki had been so natural with Miri in ways Rei never could. He was an amazing father, he provided so much care—for both of them. He cared for that little girl long before Rei did. To lose her now…
Rei lifted his head and forced himself to look in the mirror. Kazuki had been there for the both of them. He had been the one to care for them. He had brought some pieces Rei never even realized he had lost back to him when the started their partnership. Even if Rei could never properly express his feelings…the thought of leaving Kazuki alone now when he knew he needed someone the most made him brave his own hurt.
Kazuki was always there when he needed him.
It was about time he returned the favour.
***
It was the arms the wrapped around him that shocked Kazuki enough that he lifted his head from his hands. He looked behind him at the only person it could be, seeing his partner with his ever blank expression, not looking at him but with his arms linked tentatively around his shoulders like he was trying to blanket Kazuki’s sadness with his presence.
His partner was warm, Kazuki thought. Comfortingly warm in a way that made him was to turn and burry himself in his chest. Instead he scrubbed at his eyes, embarrassed that he had been caught with tears down his face and standing in the middle of the room like some idiot.
Rei didn’t say anything, and honestly Kazuki didn’t expect him to. What was there to say? They both knew what was eating at them. They both knew what they had been forced to let go of.
“Kazuki.” Rei’s voice was quiet. It was always quiet. Kazuki adored that part about him, knowing Rei didn’t. He didn’t say anything else, the way he said his name was enough. While Kazuki knew his partner struggled to voice his feelings, his actions often spoke loud than words.
His hug tightened around Kazuki and he rested his chin on his shoulder.
“It’s ok to cry.”
Rei still didn’t look at him, staring instead off into the distance, but his arms, his presence, was enough. He was there. There for Kazuki. Kazuki wasn’t alone.
He tried not to let himself fixate on how good it felt to have his partner hold him. How he felt safer than he had ever felt with the arms of the man he had feelings for wrapped around him.
It was Rei.
Rei was safe.
Rei saw him at his worst and was still here.
He was still here.
And so for the first time since his late wife’s death, Kazuki let himself break down in front of another. He didn’t hold the mask, he let the tears fall, and he held onto his partner’s arms as they sunk to the floor together, bound in sorrow and grief and loss.