Chapter Text
Well. Ain't this a real kick in the taint.
The second Majima hits the ice-cold December water of Tokyo Bay, his muscles seize. He can't move, can't breathe, can't do anything but sink deep, deep down into the black. His stab wound had reopened in the fight, and together with the brand new bullet hole it streams murky blood in the water above him, like smoke unfurling from a birthday candle. About to be snuffed out.
It had been such a good day, too. Fighting alongside Kiryu-chan instead of against him, the two of them dancing in sync like some fucked up ballet. They'd learned each other's styles so well that for every spin Majima made, Kiryu would weave; they hadn't spoken a single word during the whole battle, but had instead turned it into a song. A symphony of violence and blood. Majima had even started to wonder if they might finally fuck when all this was finished. In the mad rush of adrenaline his grin was practically feral as he tore through the ex-Dojima men with his tantō.
And then some rat-ass punk with absolutely no respect for an honest fight had gone and fucking shot him. The disrespect! Majima hopes Kiryu has kicked the bastard's teeth so far down his throat he'll have to floss with toilet paper.
Kiryu. Is Kiryu alright? Did he get away? Majima can't turn his head, can only move his lone eye to look to his right; he hopes Kiryu isn't sinking next to him on his blind side. He has to have got away. Majima didn't go through all that for nothing. He didn't go through all of that so they can both fucking die.
He's dying.
His lungs are burning, screaming at him to take a breath, but all he takes in is more water. He can't die now. He can't. Shimano would be furious with him. Saejima would be furious with him. He's got to swim, got to make it back to the surface because only one bastard is allowed to kill him and-
And-
And-
He sinks into the black, his frantic mind spiralling into nothingness.
He can't die now, goddammit.
***
Cold.
That's the first thought that surfaces in the molasses of his brain. Cold. Too cold. Gotta get warm, but he can't even twitch a finger.
Then... a voice? He can hear... something. Someone.
"...do I do? Oyaji, please, I don't- don't do this, please, I don't know what to do! You can't do this!"
Majima would know that walking panic attack anywhere. Nishida. Idiot must have dragged him out of the water just in time. More senses start to come back - he's lying in something squelchy, and he can feel a breeze across his face. He can smell the salinated water and rotten seaweed. His chest hurts like someone dropped a car on him. Still can't move, but he can manage a groan.
A shocked gasp from beside him. "Oyaji?! Are... did you just groan? Oh, please say that was on purpose, please..."
Majima frowns, just about cracking open his eye. "The fuck are ya babblin' about, Nishida?"
Majima suddenly finds himself being pulled into a sitting position by the lapels of his jacket, and then Nishida is crushing him in a bear hug, of all things. Majima doesn't even have the strength to push him off, so he has to accept it even as his skin crawls at the idea of being trapped.
"Oi, Nishida. Ya have a stroke or somethin'? Get off."
To his great annoyance, Nishida doesn't immediately let go. "I thought... I thought you were dead!"
"Well clearly I ain't, so stop squeezin' the life outta my lungs, alright?"
Finally, he's released, falling in a rather undignified manner back onto the muddy shore. He must have been dragged out of the water up to the side - good job it's low tide, or this would be submerged too.
Nishida frets above him, wringing his fingers into knots. "I pulled you out, but... you were floating out there. Face down. And you weren't... breathing any more. I did CPR but I thought... oyaji, I'm so glad you're alright!" He bows deeply, finally irritating Majima enough to force movement into his frozen muscles so that he can slap his captain across the head.
"Fucking dumbass. I ain't never gonna die. Ya hear me? Nobody puts this dog dow-"
He stops suddenly, his whole body convulsing once, twice. He rolls on his side just in time to vomit an entire gut full of black sludge. Nishida skitters back like a terrified beetle, not wanting his boss to hork on his shoes. The bile pours out of Majima at an alarming rate - just how much water did he swallow out there? It feels like three gallons - and just when he thinks the hose has been turned off, a thick and heavy lump gets stuck in his throat. He coughs hard, thumping his bruised chest to try and force it out, spitting onto the ground.
It's white, almost spherical but not quite. Slightly smaller than a golf ball. And it's glowing, faintly, like it's got a shitty LED inside it or something. He and Nishida both stare for several moments.
"I... do not remember eating that."
Nishida peers dubiously at the object, not wanting to get too close. "Maybe it was in the water, and you swallowed it?"
"Yeah. Maybe." Majima clambers shakily to his feet. "People throw random shit in there all the time."
He bends down to pick it up and put it in his pocket. His fingers feel completely numb until he closes them around the orb - even through his glove, it feels oddly warm. Probably because it was just inside his stomach cavity.
He tries not to think too much about anything that just happened as Nishida leads the way back to the car.
***
As they trudge along the concrete loading dock, Nishida keeps glancing nervously back at Majima, like he's worried his boss is going to dissipate into mist at any moment.
"Oi, stop that shit. I keep tellin' ya I'm fine."
"I know you do, oyaji. It's just... it was a long time."
Majima frowns. "How long we talkin', here?"
Nishida's face screws up in that way it always does when he knows Majima won't like what he has to say. "Well. I saw Kiryu-san leave but you weren't with him, so I came looking. Right away! I didn't hesitate one minute!"
"Wait, wait wait. Kiryu-chan. Did he get hurt too?"
Nishida paused in thought. "I don't think he was, not badly anyway. He looked worried, but nothing else."
"Haw? So he just, what, left me there? Did he at least try to jump after? Was his shirt all wet and sexy-like?"
"I... don't think so, oyaji."
"That fucking asshole! After all I do for him, he left me there to drown!" Majima kicks a wooden crate in frustration, hard enough to splinter a corner of the box. He's so mad that it doesn't even hurt. "I could have died if ya weren't quick enough!"
"Well, that's- that's what I was saying, oyaji. I didn't think I had been."
"Oh, right. You were regaling me with the tale of your daring rescue. Carry on."
An anxious nod. "So, I came straight here as soon as I realised something was wrong. But I didn't know where you were. The Dojima men were mostly knocked out, and you weren't on the pier anywhere. I checked all over! I think it was... maybe ten minutes before I saw your jacket."
Majima stops walking.
"Ten minutes?"
Nishida nods, looking at his feet. "And you were face down."
Majima's mind reels at the idea. You aren't supposed to survive five minutes without oxygen, let alone ten. And that's not counting how long it was between Majima going in the water and Kiryu getting away. Sure, there's those crazy pearl diving folks who can hold their breath for ages, but Majima smokes two packs a day and can barely do doggy paddle.
Maybe it was the cold? The water had felt like ice across his body, and he’s still fucking freezing now. It could have put him in some kind of stasis, like those rich bastards who get put in tubes so they can be brought back to life in a thousand years. Yeah, that sounds about right.
“Shit, Nishida. Guess I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Unfortunately, only half of that statement is true.