Chapter Text
News of Caine's deal with the High Table had reached Koji late. It had started as whispers in the shadows, like wisps of smoke blown in the wind. He was not remiss in assuming it to be hearsay.
After all, he had just talked to Caine seven months ago.
They had walked side by side amidst the flowering cherry blossoms in the Kema Sakuranomiya Park, a shower of petals sometimes distracting Caine from the conversation at hand.
Caine's fingers would brush against the sleeve of Koji's haori, dancing with the idea of grabbing his hand. He was stalling for time, but his smile reached his eyes, a noticeable skip in his step. "You have good news, I suppose?"
Caine's smile only grew, his laughter sweet like the falling cherry blossoms petals. It had always been so warm, much like the sun. It could kill, of course, it could. But it also gave life. Koji had no idea how Caine did it, the frivolous joy he clung so desperately to like a man out of time or a castaway floating at sea on a broken raft.
No matter how much a job haunted him, he could bring himself to smile. To laugh. To invite the devil to a dance. "I'm going to be a dad," there it was again. That infallible grin. "Qiuyue says we'll have a daughter."
Koji dipped his head, smile hidden as he trailed along beside Caine, matching him step for step. "So soon?" The teasing lilt was not lost on Caine who shrugged carelessly in response. He was the last of the three of them to consider retirement and the news of his own daughter was coming after Akira's fourth birthday.
Koji had always suspected Caine would want a child of his own. He coddled Akira with glee when she was first born - decorum be damned. His silly faces, and the raspberries he'd blow into Akira's tummy causing her to giggle. Uncle Caine had a nice ring to it. Bàba even more so.
Though John had found his peace elsewhere, Caine had offered Koji a piece of home in his continued presence.
He was a ghost that stalked the halls of the Osaka Continental more than any other assassin. He only fell short of Koji's own staff.
Koji watched the sunlight catch on Caine's figure, cat-like grace coloring his stride. "And here I thought you'd say 'finally'," though Caine's words sung with the melodic strings of laughter, there was a strange tension that ran through his shoulders. "She'll be good for me, don't you think?" Caine raised his hand to the sun as if it would filter out the rays of light, squinting as he looked up to the sky.
It was telling that he did not voice his true question. They had done this song and dance a hundred times over and they would do it another hundred times, "I think you'll be good for her."
Caine's eyes softened, "Yeah." If he hadn't been focused on Caine, his response would have been lost in the wind.
"There's something else on your mind," usually Caine would cut in with his sharp quips. He was just as competent with his words as he was with a blade and he often asked for a spar here and there. "Somebody has to keep you from getting rusty" he'd claim, cheeky when he won and gracious when he lost. Koji knew better. It was the same for the both of them - a taste of home, a reminder of a distant past that was long gone.
Somewhere along the path they had chosen for themselves, the four of them had become three with the passing of their mentor. And then two with John's retirement.
"Qiuyue, she wants out," Caine continued to stare at the open skies like the floating clouds could offer him some solace. It was inevitable. John's impossible task. Koji's resignation as a blade for hire and subsequent rise to become the manager of the Osaka Continental. It was only a matter of time before Caine too would join them, "Not just for her."
"It worries you."
The High Table had allowed John to leave due to Viggo's promise. The task should have killed him - it nearly did. So, when Koji sought his own form of freedom, they had wisened up.
They had failed to realize he was not the sort of man to bow to others when offered a choice otherwise. Which meant - his gaze settled heavily on Caine who merely smiled, his one shoulder shrug seemed helpless for a change.
"It's never easy, but if it can't kill John and it can't stop you, what's there to worry about?" If he didn't know Caine well, the easy lilt of his speech and his disarming smile would have convinced him. As it stood, he could see the creases of worry that lined Caine's forehead, the lackluster sound of his laughter.
Oftentimes, the job of being the voice of reason fell upon his shoulders as a heavy burden. One of them had to be true to the situation at hand, after all, but in this situation, he could not find it in him to shatter the semblance of hope Caine still clung to. He placed a hand on Caine’s shoulder feeling some of the tension drain the other man’s body and squeezed gently, “What could possibly stand in your way if you truly wanted something?” Koji could tell Caine didn’t buy it, though he appreciated it nonetheless. “If you need help though…”
The offer stood without a demand for anything in return, but Caine had merely laughed, “I know. I know where to find you.”
Though something still bore down heavy on Caine, he was content with dropping the conversation as the other man continued on the path under the shower of pink petals - conversation dwindling into small talk, reminiscing, and promises of writing often.
Koji wished he had never allowed Caine to leave that day.
Family always came first. It was the only excuse he could offer himself as he had pushed aside the worries - unfounded as they had initially seemed to be - when he came upon Caine’s residence. There was a car parked outside but it was covered in a thin layer of dust. It had been Caine’s pride and joy. He paused outside, carefully inspecting it for any damage done to the body of the car but as far as he could see nothing had changed.
It had simply gone unloved.
Something akin to fear gripped at his heart as he let himself into Caine’s house. A melodic bell rang out as he twisted the doorknob. Koji could only furrow his brows in confusion.
“Who’s there?” Caine’s voice sounded distant, like he was in the kitchen cooking up his favorite meal again but the house was lacking the wafting spices Caine preferred and the roaring flames of his cooktops. Gas, he had always proclaimed with pride, was the far superior option.
Koji never had a chance to respond, pushing aside a rattling bead curtain hung askew that wasn’t there previously to enter the living space. The gunshot came first. It was aimed in the general direction of his head but several inches off the mark. He found it hard to believe the act had been purposeful, and yet - “How unlike you to miss your mark.” He tried to keep his words light, slowly growing aware of the silence that permeated the house.
It lacked the wails of a newborn awakened by gunfire. The soft jazz that Caine adored. Things were slightly out of place - a chair off center from the table, like someone had walked into it and tried but failed to set it back in its original position. “Koji?” Disbelief colored his words. If Koji didn’t know better, it almost sounded like Caine had come face to face with a ghost. “Why are you here?”
He did not move from the beaded curtain, the smell of gunpowder still lingering in the air. Koji would have reached up to soothe the ringing in his ears if not for the fact Caine was starting to worry - no, scare him. Caine was more of the reactive sort. He held himself with great confidence, a cocksure certainty that allowed him to ask questions first because he damn well knew - or at least he fancied himself to be - he was faster than those that stood in his path.
Caine was not the sort of man to fire a gun without a reason.
“I heard you made a deal.”
The High Table deals were private affairs, they existed like mere shadowy imprints in the assassin world. The way John’s retirement had led to a final toast in the name of John Wick, so too did Caine’s deal cause ripples in their shared circles. He could hear it clear as day as Caine clicked the safety back into place, but he didn’t come out of whatever damned corner he was hiding in. Which once again was alarmingly un-Cainelike of him. “That soon, huh?”
Koji took that as an invitation deeper into the house, familiarity with the house allowing him to avoid the creaking floorboards. “I told you, if you needed help-”
“There was no impossible task,” Caine’s voice guided him in the direction of the small nook in the back by the grand piano Caine loved so dearly. “No open continentals in dire need of a hired hand.” He stopped short of Caine, aware that the other man was staring in his direction but he wouldn’t lift his head. He was looking at Koji’s knees, rubbing the undoubtedly hot barrel of the pistol against the side of his head rather carelessly. “What help would I need?”
“Where’s Qiuyue? Your daughter?”
“Mia,” Caine filled the silence quickly, the name falling off his lips with a lovestruck smile that altered the heavy tension in the air for the briefest of moments. “They’re safe.”
Safe? "What did you do, Caine?" It had been a long time since he had felt something akin to fear, but it gripped at his heart even as he regarded the man before him. As if his silence could buy him more time, Caine merely shook his head. And if Caine would not get to his feet, then Koji would join him on the floor. “Caine.”
“The High Table can be generous enough with Mia, but Qiuyue too… that’s pushing it,” Caine’s smile was self-deprecating, “They asked me to prove my fealty. So I gave.” He lifted his head allowing Koji to see the pale lightless eyes for the first time. He was looking past him. “An eye for a life, that’s not too steep a price is it?” Caine had sighed then, leaning his head back against the wall, “Not too steep at all.”
Rare were the times that Koji found himself at a loss for words. This was one of them.
“Caine-”
“It’s over for me too. No more tasks. No more jobs,” a cane laid on the floor at his side. “Just names.”
So Caine wanted to talk. Exhaling heavily, he shifted closer to Caine - close enough that their shoulders brushed ever so slightly. For the briefest of moments, Caine had tensed up at the contact but was just as quick to relax, shifting to close the space between them. It was reminiscent of the old sun kissed days after a particularly rough training session. “Being bound to the table is as much a death sentence as it is a blessing.”
“Jealous you’re not retired as well?” Surprised laughter escaped Koji. He could not fathom how Caine still managed to crack jokes in situations like these. Caine’s elbow found with unerring precision his ribs, a practiced gesture that Koji would always hate regardless. “Come on, you can admit it.”
“I suppose so,” he was not, but Caine’s smile was worth offering him an exasperated response all the same.
“Being a Manager isn’t bad though, the food’s fantastic,” it felt wrong almost to be put at ease by Caine’s ringing laughter and the warmth pressed up against his side. Koji could not help but turn to look at Caine, hoping to catch his eyes. “Sometimes that makes me jealous.”
“It’s because all you can think about is eating and fighting,” he shot back.
“Touché.”
Caine’s head found its way onto his shoulder. Koji doesn’t move, and so they stay like that.
If time chose to come to a standstill at this moment, Koji would not mind. It was easy to forget about what they had lost and the consequences of Caine’s actions. Though neither John nor Caine had ever made anything easy for Koji. They were all cut from the same cloth. “Why aren’t they here, Caine?” Koji knew damn well he was digging into brand new wounds. He was tearing them wide open again, but the deal was lost on him. Was it worth it to both Caine and Qiuyue? Had they discussed matters beforehand? Why was he here all alone? Did Qiuyue know the price Caine had paid for their daughter’s safety?
“The same reason John had to leave in order to be with Helen,” Caine all but spoke those words straight into his shoulder. He was hard to shake off like a particularly stubborn cat once he made himself comfortable. “We don’t cross into their world the way they don’t cross into ours. They’re free.”
But Caine wasn’t.
The scars over Caine’s eyes were healing well, but Koji could not account for the one over his heart. “Did you see her?”
Caine said nothing and his silence terrified Koji, the whisper of ‘no’ written between the lines. Caine had always been an open book to Koji and when his smile failed to reach his eyes, Koji’s heart broke, “Qiuyue says she looks like me.”
“That was quite a risk she took.”
A heavy sigh shook Caine’s body even as he frowned thoughtfully, “I never went inside.” So Qiuyue had noticed him then - had said those words specifically for him. Koji could see it, Caine was as stubborn as they came. He would have licked his wounds and arrived at the hospital all the same when it came time for his daughter’s birth. The image of Caine sitting outside, uninvited, in the waiting room unwilling to leave at the insistence of the hospital staff, was an easy one to conjure. It didn’t sit right with him regardless.
“You should have told me,” would it have made a difference? Koji could not be the judge of that, but it would have made all the difference to him to have been given the opportunity to be there for Caine. If he had not arrived here out of concern, would he have ever known?
“For what?” There was a notable lack of bitterness in Caine’s light words even as he slipped his hand onto Koji’s lap, hand somehow finding his. He did not pull away as Caine’s fingers intertwined with his, “Your family comes first. Osaka is as much your family as Akira is. And you’re a busy man, anyways, Koji.”
The audacity. “You’re my family too, Caine.” Caine’s inhale was like a death rattle, it shuddered in his chest. They didn’t share the same blood, but that had never been indicative of family - not in this trade. Instead, he received a rather amicable hum of agreement after a moment too long. It was as much as Caine was willing to relent and he would take small victories as they came.
There were heavy dark circles under Caine’s eyes, like he had failed to sleep well. Their master had trained them well - they never slept with both eyes closed. But Caine had always been a light sleeper, even more so than John and him. “Are you tired, Caine?”
Another low hum resounded deep within Caine’s chest like a cat’s rumbling purr.
“I’ll be here.”
Caine didn’t answer. Koji didn’t expect him to. The younger man was asleep, head tucked against the crook of Koji’s own neck, fingers interlaced with his. It would be fine.
They would be fine.