Kenjirou's fingers were grabbing to the official document harshly, eyes threatening to spill tears as he took in deep breaths. Fucking Goshiki Tsutomu. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that the person he would least expect really murdered their parents. He hated him so, so much but he was already dead. He couldn't really hate on a man that regretted his actions so deeply he decided to kill himself but then again, he could because frankly, if he hadn't gone forth with the stupid plan, then he would be alive and so would his parents.

He wondered if Eita had ever felt like killing himself as Tsutomu did. He wondered if those tear drops he first tattooed caused waterworks knowing of the atrocious crime he committed. He wondered if more criminal organization members had wanted to die after killing someone they loved.

Kenjirou took a deep breath, looking over the paper and noticed areas that were weirdly crumpled.

Oh, understandable. Tsutomu had been crying while signing the paper at the bottom and that much was visible. He fucking deserved those tears and no matter how much Kenjirou now hated him, he would have preferred Tsutomu alive and distanced as compared to dead on his way to cremation. Logically, he should have gone to jail but even Kenjirou knew that the Cartel didn't let their members go without a massive fight and he much rather prefer Tsutomu strolling freely as compared to half the police unit and their families dead. The Cartel were ride or die yet somehow, they didn't trust each other in the least.

There wasn't enough time on Earth to think about that so with a 'Thank you' and a sad smile at the police officer who handed him the will, Kenjirou made his way to the heavily tinted vehicle where Eita awaited him. He wondered how criminals could just drive around with such dark windows since it was literally illegal but then again, Eita probably had his twisted ways.

"How did it go?" Eita asked, warm eyes staring at the angle-bangled Doctor who sighed heavily.

"You read it yourself. I don't have energy."

"Oh, so it's really bad."

And so it was. Eita read through the whole thing, nodding every now and then as he seemingly understood exactly what Tsutomu was saying. Kenjirou didn't doubt that he knew and that made him feel worse because how did people who had such nice outside personalities become such questionable creatures? How did Eita, who seemed like the nicest person ever, live looking that innocent when he wasn’t?

Whatever, his task at hand, which required a break from work, was dealing with death certificates and possession claims. Tsutomu's possessions were easy to deal with, donating several things, selling some, selling his house he had just finished paying, but the one thing that he could not get rid of were his diplomas.

A diploma was extremely admirable and difficult to obtain and if Kenjirou were to die, he'd never want his destroyed. He'd respect it but everything else could go. Dealing with his parents' things was another situation when he was in another country but he didn't have the luxury to travel. Sure, his parents and his own wealth could have easily allowed him to go across seas back to his home country but he didn't have the mental strength to go across and face more police and Doctors.

With no face to make himself present and no other family members to help him out, Kenjirou was granted six months leeway until he had to make himself present lest the Japanese government take everything for themselves. Eita took it upon himself to watch over him during the evenings because although still risky, day was safer.

Kenjirou appreciated the action even though he still felt watched during his days at work which sometimes made him wish he would get shot over the constant stares. Why were they so adamant about killing him for witnessing a shootout? They could've easily walked in and killed him but part of him figured Eita's presence was keeping him safe. He asked Magui to get him another wig after realizing that he did, in fact, look like Tsutomu with it on and although he hardly thought wearing a wig worked to conceal his identity, he would pretend it did.

That was his death situation and then there was his Eita situation.

As per the will's statement, Eita did prove to be the nicest when Kenjirou wasn't being stubborn. He brought him food in the evenings─ healthy food one might add because frankly, 'You gotta stay healthy to save lives, Doctor,' was Eita's explanation─ he hung out with him on the evenings or mornings Kenjirou wasn't working, Doctors didn't even have shifts at night unless there was an emergency, and Kenjirou's personal favourite, he'd hug him to sleep on days they spent very long together or on days where he was too depressed to live a regular life.

He could look past the Yakuza situation as long as he never spotted blood or heard of any murders. He could accept the tattoos, scars, burn marks, teardrops, dates, everything, if Eita kept treating him so delicately and watching over his lonely moments. It was weird at first to know someone was always looking over him and although he still didn't know where they were, he got used to the extra protection. But even though Kenjirou had learned to love more than just the brown eyes, he was a curious man.

"Hey, Eita, how'd you get so many kills? Why do you have so many flowers made of tears?"

Eita had a tendency to roam his house shirtless and a tendency to pull Kenjirou into bed with him for no reason. At first, Kenjirou assumed it was for sexual reasons and would be hesitant and weary but after it happened so often, he relaxed and allowed Eita to wrap their limbs together. 

A sigh exited at the question, one that made Kenjirou turn from staring blatantly at the chest tattoos to stare into sad eyes.

"You wouldn't wanna know," Eita finally sighed.

"Oh, but I would, tell me. I can't possibly ask without expecting something horrible. I think I'm prepared."

He was, in fact, not prepared. He should not have overestimated himself but the damage was done.

"It first happened around eight years ago. I was young and stupid, in the Yakuza and I guess it’s international to offer wealth, possession, and allowances because those are the same things I was offered. I was new and not used to the types of jokes they had. So one day, my boss jokingly told me to put a bomb in a call centre. At that time I didn't know it was a joke and took it as a serious order which was stupid of me. Well, I did as told and put it in the basement so the structure of the building would shake and everything would collapse once the bomb would detonate. I managed to do just that but as I was walking to a location close enough to set it off with its remote but far enough to not get caught in the main explosion, I got a call the second I hit the button. And that's when my, coworker? Not sure if I can call them coworkers but anyways, he laughed and said it was a joke but to have fun and then hung up. It was thirty seconds until the explosion and I stood there in complete shock and horror. I had been told from the start that my job wouldn't be to kill but mainly as a defensive and lookout yet, there I was killing. I didn't know how to defuse a bomb and just stood there dumbly instead of running. It exploded, the building collapsed, I was caught in part of the crossfire and suffered a burn to my leg and other areas. I didn't care about the pain and simply walked back to headquarters. That night I cried and wished to kill myself but I managed to talk myself out of it. They fixed my leg and when I found out how many people died, I got a teardrop for each one. Y'know the worst part? There were children on a class trip walking downtown on their way to the city zoo. CHILDREN! I could never hurt a child and that made me miserable as fuck. Sixty children from two classes, twenty-one pedestrians, and ninety-seven workers including teachers, gone. Hundred seventy-eight gone. The children got the biggest tear drops and the rest formed smaller flowers. I hated myself for years and never touched a weapon until about four years ago. My boss laughed at my misunderstanding but shrugged it off. I climbed ranks because of that, and since then, I've only killed nine people and that includes fucking Sebas and all were defensive reasons. The only others that I killed were my parents because of initiation and their teardrops are on my hip in bold. They didn’t get a flower."

Kenjirou couldn't even speak, pure horror in him as he thought about the situation. How did people have such a horrid job and still go about day to day as if they didn't do shit? He was on the verge of hating himself for actually liking Eita but he couldn't. Not when his life was on the line, not when he smothered him in affection, and not when he quite literally agreed when Tsutomu had instructed him to let Eita watch over him. His mind couldn't form a response and his eyes moved to stare at the ash blond's torso and a hand moved to tentatively run over the flowers and burns. A small sigh was heard and as Eita lifted a hand to push Kenjirou's bangs, another question formed.

"And the dates? I know one is the day we met but I see some mixed in among the patterns."

"Smart," Eita huffed as he stared at his hand. "That's correct but the rest are other people on the days we met but they're dead. That's why their ones are partially hidden. Three exes, three of my murders, three of them attempted to murder me. Both men and women but I'll have you know, women in these types of organizations are ruthless. I think it has to do with the fact that their initiation is killing their parents, spouse, and children. Something like proving that they're worth the same as men or more. Never understood the sexist side of the world, to be honest."

"Holy fuck," Kenjirou whispered, just about pulling himself right out of Eita's arms. "Exes? Did you tattoo all of their dates in hopes to stay with them?"

"Not really. I tattoo all of the dates when it's love at first sight."

Kenjirou's breath hitched. What? Eita liked him romantically from day one? He could understand if he developed feelings after because even he knew he grew a very strong liking for Eita. But from that cursed morning where he looked like he had just fought a racoon in a dumpster? He couldn't believe it.

"So, me? What?"

"Yes, you and you were so tiny and adorable but smart and then I picked you up to throw you over the fence and I was in complete adoration at your small waist, I was a goner. I just liked you so much."

"Disgusting," Kenjirou laughed, pressing his nose against the inked pec. "Should I really crush on a criminal like you? Hmm? Wouldn't that be against political views since I'm for the public and all?"

"Fuck the public," Eita whispered, tilting the copper haired's head in their laying position, a night light illuminating their faces. "As long as you don't mind getting into the nitty gritty by being stuck to me, fuck them."

"Well then, I'll risk it for you because your eyes haunt me at night."

Eita let out a boisterous guffaw, rolling away to catch his breath and smile sappily at the ceiling.

"I tell you that it was love at first sight when I spotted you on that fine, bloody, stabbed-up morning and here you tell me my eyes haunt you? You're a handful, Kenji, you really are."