It's raining in Yokohama and Goku's gone for a walk and meets someone too familiar. It's not a good thing. Reincarnation story, of sorts. Wild Adapter crossover.
Which is fine, since there is a list of things Kubota has never been able to admit out loud from the moment Tokitoh opened his eyes and demanded to know what was going on the first time. Right on top of that list is that he, Kubota, couldn't care less about what was going on, Tokitoh's lost memories or where he'd come from. He's tried to say it, since it seems wrong to pretend, but the words don't quite come out. Just saying something like that outright seems rude, somehow, and Kubota has never been interested in being rude. At least not about this.
He has no problem being rude enough to trace the soft skin on the inside of Tokitoh's elbow, until he gets a soft, sleepy moan and a hand batting at him like an irritated cat's paw. He presses his lips right at the point where shoulder meets arm and stops just short of actually waking Tokitoh up.
It isn't that the problem of Tokitoh is uninteresting, anything but. A puzzle even, how does a cat end up in a dead end alley with no memories but enough attitude to make up for it? Unfortunately Kubota just never seems to manage to care about puzzles. Sad that Tokitoh cares about everything, loudly and vehemently, and where he came from comes in on the top of that very long list of everythings. There's only one way to respond to that without being unreasonable.
Kubota isn't interested in being unreasonable and it's not exactly rocket science. Kubota does what he can.
What he can includes calling a blue eyed American girl and asking her to do something for him that he has no right to expect. Kubota assumes that she'll say no and that will be the end of the problem, he'll have done what he could. Tokitoh doesn't like her anyway and Kubota doesn't like anyone, which he seems to have in common with Shelly.
He doesn't expect her to say yes.
"All right," Shelly says on the phone and he wonders if there's been another communication breakdown. "I'll find out which club Anna worked at. It shouldn't be hard to get them to at least give me an interview." No, she definitely understood what he was asking. Huh, well this was interesting.
He pokes through his English vocabulary and tries to come up with phrasing that actually makes sense. Though, frankly, talking to her should actually be a lot more difficult than it is. She just seems to get it. "You certain? It is not required."
"The fuck it's not," she says in icy tones and he smiles, imaging her expression. At least she can swear bilingually without much effort, something she has in common with Tokitoh. "Bitch exploded on me. I have some crazy guy sleeping on my couch who won't leave. And then there's you and your boyfriend."
Kubota's smile brightens into a grin, which there is no one awake or present in the room to see. Tokitoh squirms and drools on him some more. "Crazy guy?" he asks, focusing on the new information. Not that he's that interested but it seems polite to ask.
"Crazy guy. Goku. You know the freak," Shelly says and the frustration in her tone seems to vibrate through the line.
Kubota's smile disappears. Oh, that crazy guy. Because he's not interested in Shelly this shouldn't bother him. And never mind that Goku only seems to show up when the bodies hit the ground, there are no shortage of bodies in Kubota's life.
"Ah so," he says, neutrally as he can. "Are you certain this idea is good?"
"What is this, a game of cryptic?" Shelly says into the phone, loud enough that Kubota winces and pulls it away from his ear. "If you know something about him I don't, spit it out."
It's nothing like having Tokitoh angry at him, though it's soothing in it's own way. Kubota gets the idea that Shelly might actually kill or maim if she gets angry enough.
"Excuse me, I don't know what 'cryptic' means," Kubota says in his careful English. "But I am quite certain you know more about Goku than I could know. He seems to find you likeable." The phone clatters on the other end of the line and he hears silence and a dial tone. Kubota smiles and puts it back into the receiver.
Unfortunately Shelly calls back about an hour later, about the time Tokitoh is grumbling himself further toward wakefulness.
"So, I have the name and address of the club," she says, not as if she were never annoyed, but as if she were teeth grittingly ready to tolerate him anyway. "Are you interested in finding out more when I do or not?"
Or not. Kubota shrugs. "Certainly." He stares down at Tokitoh and brushes his fingers through silky black hair. Tokitoh's eyelashes flutter like soot against paler skin. Tokitoh is frowning in his sleep.
"If you need assistance..." Kubota murmurs into the phone, already knowing his offer will be rejected and not sure why he made it. It feels wrong. Shelly shouldn't be helping him, he shouldn't be helping her. They have too much in common.
"If I do, I have your number," she says. He hears the dial tone. She calls back ten minutes later and Tokitoh groans and covers his head with a pillow.
"Moshi Moshi," Kubota murmurs, even though he sees her name on the caller id.
"What's wrong with you?" she says, without preamble or attempt at politeness. It sounds more abrupt because she's trying to speak Japanese. "You asked me, but now you don't seem to have any interest in me doing this for you."
"It's not a great plan," Kubota says with a shrug she can't see. "Dangerous. One American girl with not too much Japanese in hostess club. There's a limit to what you can learn."
"I can get some of the WA. Anna did. That's more than you have to go on now."
"Yes and now you have bits of Anna on you to clean," Kubota offers helpfully.
She snorts audibly. "I'm not Anna." No, of course not. She has fearless eyes. No fear, no love, only pure, distilled anger separate her from where Kubota used to be before he met Tokitoh.
"Maybe you can tell me why you want to do this? Not so many people risk this much for curiosity."
"Fuck you. I do what I want." Dial tone.
Kubota is almost expecting the phone to ring, and it does, this time half an hour later when Tokitoh has stumbled into the bathroom.
"My interview with the club is in two hours. Meet me for lunch after and we'll make the plan better," she says. "Don't bring your blue eyed asshole."
Hmm... Kubota stares at the phone in his hand. That was- well, maybe. "This concerns him. Don't bring your golden eyed death omen."
"I don't intend to." She named a restaurant on the edge of Chinatown and Kubota wrote it down. "Death omen. Jesus."
Dial tone. This time the ring comes five minutes later.
"I didn't say that because I wanted to fuck you."
Kubota raises an eyebrow and stares in the direction of the bathroom where the shower is running. "I know that. What would be the point?"
He hears a soft whistling breath over the line. "Hey. Why is he a death omen?"
"What? Oh, I guess he isn't. Probably it's me who is." Kubota stands up and walks over to the bathroom door, pressing his palm against the paint. Just holding it there. He can almost feel the pressure of the water.
"I think I'm not understanding your Japanese again."
"That's probably true," Kubota says mildly.
Her tone is increasingly strident. "Because if I was understanding that right you just sounded like a total fucking idiot, and that's your little buddy not you, right?"
Kubota blinks. "Hmm? I don't think so."
She laughs. It's a pretty sound, like something breaking. "Okay, you are an idiot, because you damn well know that everyone dies. People aren't death omens, Hakkai. There are no curses. Your life is what it is and then you die."
"Now you're preaching Buddhism at me, gaijin."
She laughs louder. "Fuck, I wouldn't do that. Tell me you have feelings to hurt and I promise to try my best not to hurt them."
Kubota lets his forehead press against the door next to his palm. "If that's what you want, I can tell you that."
"I'm glad you do, because I don't. Tell me at lunch. Goodbye, Kubota-san."
"By the way who is Hakkai?"
"What? No one, why?"
"No reason," Kubota murmurs. "See you at lunch." This time he's the one who hangs up at the phone, tossing it in the general direction of the living room. He opens the door to the bathroom with a jerky motion and then steps forward in a few short strides.
"You lunatic pervert," Tokitoh hisses, spinning around and glaring like a wet cat. "At least take your clothes off before getting in the shower."
Kubota gives a tiny shrug and watched Tokitoh move. Water soaks through his shirt and trousers right down to the skin in moments. "Hai, Hai, you're right. Should I take them off now?"
"It's too late. You're already wet now."
"So I should leave them on?" Kubota grins and lets his hands rest on Tokitoh's bare soap slippery shoulders.
"Idiot," Tokitoh mutters. If Kubota had stepped into the shower like this a month ago he might have gotten sliced to shreds with the claw for his trouble. Instead he just gets the buttons of his shirt sliced off, one by one, while Tokitoh glares at him with ferocious concentration.
At lunch Shelly is wearing a cotton print dress and a disgusted frown. Tokitoh smirks at her and Kubota shrugs before sitting down.
"So, at least it pays better than teaching English," she says.
"Never mind, fuck that. Did you find anything out?" Tokitoh says, quickly enough to leave Shelly blinking at him in mild confusion.
"You talk too fast," she mutters. And then something a lot ruder under her breath. "Why am I helping you again?"
"I don't know," Kubota offers cheerfully. Tokitoh glares at him, and the tips of claws dig into his skin right through the leather gloves.
"Yeah, whatever," Shelly says. "I'm starting tonight. We'll see if Anna's Eiji guy shows up." Kubota almost shakes his head. Shelly is about as subtle as a guided missile and will probably make almost as good a hostess as Tokitoh. Then again, she is tall and blonde, which counts for quite a bit. Maybe she'll get the masochistic salary man crowd.
Not that it could ever be that easy. "And what about the other one?" Kubota asks. "Your Goku?"
"My Goku?" The look on Shelly's face makes Kubota grin despite himself. "In what way is he mine?"
Kubota stifles laughter because he doesn't actually want to fight. Even if that might work in getting her to give up this project in disgust if for no other reason.
"He's not yours then," he says instead. Shelly glares holes through him. He's glad he's the one with the gun. "He does keep turning up, though, doesn't he?"
"Well ain't that the truth?" Shelly mutters.
She shakes her head and taps her cigarette against the ash tray. "Never mind."
Kubota presses the tip of his cigarette against hers to light it and just watches her for a moment. This girl. This gaijin girl. What was this about her? It was starting to bother him. "Fine then, I won't mind. Watch yourself."
Under the table he gives her an offering, grip first. Her eyes go very wide but she doesn't indicate that she's now holding an illegal gun in the middle of a crowded restaurant in any other way.
"You can use such a thing, yes? Now the plan is better."
"My father was with the marines," she says as if in answer. That may not be an answer but the smooth way she takes it and puts it away is. She gives the quick, edge of a smile. "Really, I just like them."
She stands up and bows Japanese style, to him and Tokitoh. Tokitoh is staring at her, as if he were also puzzled about something. Kubota will have to ask him about that later.
"I appreciate the gift. I'll call you when I have something," she says. Kubota has no doubts that she will. He's definitely done what he can for Tokitoh's little quest this time.